Beyond Normal
by Not-the-Norm
Summary: Mob bosses, strange encounters with a man dressed as a bat, and dreadful banquets full of snobbish nobility are all just a few things Jenna Van Der Pol has to deal with in her everyday life. Bruce Wayne/Batman x OC. Read and Review.
1. The Banquet

Authors note: Hello, hello everyone! I've had this story posted for years, but I've finally decided to revamp it and update it. It will be finished, I guarantee that! Anyways, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of Beyond Normal. I re-read it and tried editing as best I could, but if you find any mistakes...blame it on human error.

Disclaimer: If I owned Batman there would be a new 'Mrs. Wayne'...There isn't, ergo, I don't own Batman. Thanks for killing my dreams.

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**The Banquet to End All Banquets**

_Chapter One_

What is the real definition of 'normal?'

Normal has been described using words such as 'usual' or 'regular,' but what is it really? Does normal even exist in such a world as this or is normal just a word used to unofficially describe something humans can never achieve yet always strive to understand and possess?

Jenna sighed, letting her chin come to rest on the palm of her hand. It had been a long day. Casting her eyes downwards, she felt herself inwardly groan as her eyes caught sight of numerous papers scattered atop her desk. Her desire to shift through the stack was burnt out from the tiresome day she had been a victim to and she wanted nothing more to leave them untouched and let herself go home to rest. Sighing, she knew this wasn't possible. If she didn't get this paperwork done her boss would have her head. She had been slacking ever since crime – drug dealing in particular – had gone down in Gotham, but recently the offences against the law had taken a turn and escalated causing Jenna to fall behind just as she was catching up. Huffing, she removed her chin from her hand and grasped the papers.

Straightening them out in her hands, her jade eyes scanned the first one that met her vision. It was labeled 'urgent' and so she figured she had been lucky to have shifted it to the top. Reading the contents of the paper, she pursed her lips while reaching a hand up to fold a few locks of her hair behind her ear. After finishing the document, she noticed there was a paperclip attached to the top. Furrowing her eyebrows, she lifted the paper and groaned as she realized the document didn't tell of only one person's crime, it told of a whole gangs'.

"Damnit," Jenna muttered softly to herself as she let the documents flop back onto the desk. Pulling out a drawer, she reached in and grasped a pen before sliding it closed. Grabbing a few post-its, she scribbled down the names of each mob member before yanking off the post-its and putting them in her purse. She figured she could look up information on them when she returned home, leaving the rest of the files for her to do tomorrow.

Jenna knew her boss would throw a fit if he found out she was slacking even more than before, but at the moment her fear of another outweighed her promise to her boss. Glancing at the digital clock that adorned her desk, she cursed again as she realized she was already late leaving work as it was. Sliding rather ungracefully from her chair, she hurriedly obtained her jacket from the coat hanger before reaching for her purse. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she punched off the light switch before heading out the door.

"Your father called." Jenna's gaze snapped to Pam the receptionist, who was currently typing away on her computer. Jenna assumed – knowing Pam as she did – that she was emailing her on and off again boyfriend. Many coffee breaks with the secretary had informed Jenna that the woman was currently dating a man at least ten, if not more, years her senior. 'Age doesn't matter, as long as you're in love,' she had said to Jenna. Her boyfriend was a business tycoon and she could only imagine that love had nothing to do with the young woman's relationship.

"Figures." She replied with a shrug.

"I told him you were busy. His only request was that you would arrive to the banquet on time and suitable." Pam's eyes never met the young woman's as she continued to type, her gaze keen as she stared at the computer screen.

Jenna nodded, not that Pam would even notice due to her concentration on whatever she was typing, and muttered a thanks before migrating towards the elevator. Sighing, she let her hand lift and her finger protrude so that she could hit the 'down' arrow. The elevator dinged as it did everyday before the sliding chrome doors opened letting Jenna step inside. Her eyes watched Pam as the doors began to close. The phone rang and the young receptionist answered, a smile slipping onto her lips. The young woman's emerald orbs observed as Pam's face fell a moment later, her smile vanishing.

"What do you mean you can't make it tonight?" And with that, the doors had closed. Jenna could already predict the storm she would have to endure during break hour the next day. Why Pam always came to her to rant and let some steam off about her wealthy beau was beyond Jenna.

Biting the inside of her cheek, the woman let herself lean back against the wall of the elevator, the cool chrome feeling nice against her spine. Taking a few calming breaths, she let her eyes slip closed for a second before she felt her purse vibrate. The sound of her cell phone's ring tone made her eyes snap open and she growled softly to herself as she reached her hand inside the contents of her purse. Grasping the device, she flipped it open in a flash, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she shuffled her purse and her coat in her arms.

"Hello?" She knew the irritation was evident in her voice.

"Jenna, I do hope you leave that attitude you're in at work. I would hate for you to be all riled up at the banquet tonight." Jenna felt her lips purse as she bit back a comment, her father's voice alone making her even more aggravated than she already was.

"Yeah, okay." She answered nonchalantly.

"Good." She could practically hear her father smiling and she cringed somewhat. Her eyes flashed upwards at that moment as her eyes picked up the sound of the all too familiar ding. Trying to balance everything in her arms, Jenna made her way off the elevator in a clumsy bustle.

"Listen, Dad, I'm just leaving work so I can't really talk right now. I'll be at your banquet on time, okay?" She hoped this would cut the conversation short.

"I really don't know why you're still loyal to that hellhole you call an office. That boss of yours pays you nothing and you work horrible hours. Why not take up my offer of working at my corporation? I could make you assistant advisor. Your salary would double." Jenna rolled her eyes at the offer. Ever since she had turned eighteen he had been pressuring her to work for him and be, in her opinion, his little stooge.

"I like my job, Dad, and money isn't really an issue seeing as you send me a check every month for more money than I'll ever need." The resentment towards this fact was laced thoroughly in Jenna's tone.

"Well, you can't expect me to believe you could actually live off of the salary you earn from your work." Her father's voice was ringing with amusement making her seethe in sheer anger as she reached in her purse to grasp her keys.

It was true, though. She probably wouldn't be able to support herself if he didn't send her money every month. The first time she had received the check, she had considered sending it back but thought better of it when she imagined the lecture she would receive from her father about rejecting a 'gift' from someone. Her second option was tucking the check away somewhere and forgetting about it, which she did for awhile, but when her salary lowered due to reduced crime rate she sullenly had cashed in the checks every month ever since. Her salary had gone up again and she had considered ignoring the checks once more but figured it wouldn't hurt to have some extra cash lying around and so had continued cashing the checks in. She would never admit to her father that the money came in handy.

"I really have to go." Was the only answer Jenna gave, wanting the conversation to end.

"Alright, alright. Just make sure to be on time. I can't have you interrupting the Chairman's speech again with your lollygagging." His voice was stern, yet the tone did nothing to affect her.

"Bye." She figured he would take that as an 'okay, whatever you say' and so promptly hung up her phone. Tossing it back into her purse, she unlocked her car and slid inside. Her eyes stayed focused on the road as she made her way to her apartment, yet her mind wandered the entire time.

It was true that she probably would be better off working for her father, yet she knew in her heart she could never do that. Maybe it was her pride or maybe it was the fact that ever since she could remember she had wanted to live a life of her own instead of being known as 'The Van der pol Heiress.' She hated money. Money had been the reason for her broken family and corrupt father. His dream had always been to be successful and once he had obtained that goal he was satisfied for awhile. As time passed, though, he grew displeased with his consistent salary. That restless drove him to acquire the desire to become the wealthiest man in Gotham and through that desire had come the neglect of his family. To this day, Jenna knew he was still trying to obtain that unrealistic objective.

It had been because of her father that Jenna had always longed for a normal life; a life where she didn't have to attend banquets, go to private schools, or meet young businessmen who her father deemed worthy to date. When she had turned eighteen she had told her father she wanted control of her own life; she was going to move out. He had agreed to let her do this on one condition: she still had to attend his damn banquets. She had loathed the agreement but figured it couldn't be helped.

Pulling into the apartment complexes, Jenna parked her car in a leisurely manor before turning it off and stepping out. Grabbing her coat and purse, she locked the vehicle before striding up to her door. Jamming the key into the lock, she twisted it to the right and then vertical once more before removing it. Turning the knob she stepped inside. Flicking on the lights, she draped her coat over a chair before tossing her purse onto the kitchen table. Honestly, she could care less about getting to the banquet on time.

She actually thought it would be quite amusing to arrive late and embarrass her father as she usually did. His face turning a deep shade of purple always made her night. Scurrying into the bathroom, Jenna flipped on the shower before getting undressed and stepping inside. The lukewarm water made her sigh in content as it massaged the tense muscles of her shoulders. Taking as long as she could in the shower, she finally decided to get out once she noticed that her skin had started to become prune-like.

Wrapping the towel around herself, she plugged in the hair dryer and flipped it on, letting the hot air tickle her scalp as it dried her deep chocolate tinted tendrils. Her eyes curiously traveled to the clock that occupied the counter in her bathroom and she smirked in amusement as she noticed the time; the banquet had started ten minutes ago. Finishing up with her hair, she left the bathroom and wandered to her closet. Her eyes scanned the shabby contents of it before reaching in and grabbing one of the few dresses she owned. It was black and plain and she figured it would be satisfactory. Letting the damp towel slip from her figure, she shuffled into her underwear before adorning the small dress. Falling onto her knees, then, she pulled out a fashionable pair of black heels. Standing upright once more, she pointed her toes and let her feet smoothly slide inside before stepping back to take a look at herself in the mirror.

Huffing, she squinted as she realized her eyes looked dull with the dark dress she was wearing and so quickly ran into the bathroom and applied a small layer of mascara. She figured that would do the trick and when she went back to observe her overall look, she was glad to see her assumption was correct.

"Guess I better go." She muttered to herself as she made her way back to the kitchen. Grabbing her purse and coat once more, she draped the oversized garment over her shoulders before heading out to her car.

Jenna felt as though the stagnant air of her car as she drove to her father's manor was suffocating her with an overwhelming feeling of dread.

The feelings that had occupied her persona throughout the drive to the banquet only heightened once her car had made its way into the large area her father called a driveway. Stepping lightly on her brakes, she placed her car in park as she noticed a man adorned in an iron-pressed suit strolling up to her car. As he reached the driver's side of the vehicle, he knocked politely on her window. The smile that was pasted on his lips made Jenna want to puke up her non-existent lunch.

Rolling down her window slowly, she offered him a small twitch of her lips. "Good evening, ma'am." She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm Edward, your chauffer. If I could possibly ask you to step out of your car, I will gladly proceed to take it to the parking area."

Biting her lip, Jenna fought back her desire to tell the man to shut up before she slapped some sense into him; it was a hard fight and she was thankful she won. Though the idea of slapping the young man seemed amusing, she knew the consequences wouldn't be worth it. Grabbing her purse, Jenna let the man open the door before stepping out.

Sighing, she watched as he entered the car, closing the door with a soft click before starting the engine and leaving her alone in the middle of the driveway. Taking a few breaths, she let her emerald eyes lift to observe the front door to her father's manor. A few butlers were scattered outside the entrance while middle-aged couples lingered outside conversing with each other about how much money they had managed to obtain through a certain stock or how successful their business had grown over the period of time since the last banquet. Both topics made Jenna feel more nauseous than she already did. She hoped she could avoid being a part of them for the night, though, she knew all too well that was probably an impossibility.

Gathering her coat more around her, she let her feet lead her towards the doors. False smiles were directed her way as she drew near to the butlers and she felt like flipping a one eighty and leaving just as quickly as she had come. Instead, she kept walking, her head turning to face one of the butlers as he addressed her.

"Can I take your coat, ma'am?" Jenna pursed her lips once more before nodding. Shrugging off the large coat, she shivered some as she felt the night's cool air nip and pinch at her vulnerable skin. Dashing a little too quickly inside, her gaze swiftly sought out her father. She was hardly surprised when she found him at the far end of the banquet hall; his arm draped around a woman who Jenna assumed was his new girlfriend for tonight. Hugging her arms around her own silhouette, she made her way slothfully into the room. She caught sight of the hors d'oeuvre table and was considering cornering herself there where she knew she could hide from most people, but her plan was rudely intercepted.

"Jenna Van der Pol." Her eyes darted to the woman who had addressed her using her full name.

"Good evening, Mrs. Whitman." Jenna's face curled into a false smile as she took the woman's hand in her own, giving her a delicate handshake.

"It's good to see you, darling. How have things been?" Mrs. Whitman's voice drawled on slowly as if she felt she had to pronounce every syllable she spoke with an air of nobility. It made Jenna want to gag, but instead she kept on smiling. This woman was married to her father's business partner and so her respect towards the lady was only called for.

"Things have been fine." Her answer was curt and she hoped, just like she had before on the phone with her father, that this fact would cut the conversation short. Of course, with people so highly ranked in society, no discussion could be cut down in length.

"And what about work? Oh, remind me where you work again. My memory can be so bad at times." Jenna knew that the only reason this woman didn't remember where she worked was because her office wasn't one of high standing and so Mrs. Whitman refused to remember its name or business.

"Gotham City Drug Control and Investigation Offices – it's about seven blocks from here on sixteenth street." Mrs. Whitman nodded, though Jenna could tell she wasn't listening to a word she was saying. In all honestly, the older woman appeared as though she was pondering what she should ask Jenna next. "And work has been fine, though, I wouldn't consider that necessarily a good thing considering the only reason work ever becomes 'fine' is when crime is escalating in Gotham."

Mrs. Whitman was beyond looking uninterested and so Jenna stopped her comments about her office and the crime in the city leaving the two in an awkward silence. She hoped this would be her queue to leave the presence of the wealthy woman, but her hopes were proven in vain as Mrs. Whitman struck up another topic.

"Any luck with the men, Jenna? I haven't heard your father speak of any new suitors recently." Her tone was dripping with excitement and Jenna knew she was expecting some juicy secret to be confided in her, which she would then bring up at the next gossip session with her wealthy friends.

"I'm more concerned with work, really. It's been all I can handle." Her answer was truthful, which she gave herself a mental pat on the back for. It was probably the only truth that would pass through her lips throughout the course of the night.

"Not catching many young men's eyes, hm?" The elder lady chuckled as she through out the accusation. Jenna felt her hatred of the high class snob grow all the more. "Well, you can't really be blamed for that. Young men nowadays are devoting their lives to becoming successful and whatnot. Most of them don't consider relationships until their early forties."

Jenna feigned a look of surprise.

"Maybe if you did something a bit more extravagant with the way you wear your hair and makeup, though. Then I'm sure you'd be able to snag any attractive young businessman." She nodded as if to agree with herself. It was obvious how proud she was and by telling Jenna this she thought she had been kind enough to share some secret she had been hiding.

"I'll take that into consideration," Jenna's eyes twitched some as she continued smiling transparently.

"In fact," Mrs. Whitman obviously didn't want to give up on the young lady which in turn made Jenna's desires to blow up in the old woman's face overwhelm her all the more. "I heard from a few of the other ladies that the young, attractive bachelor Bruce Wayne is here tonight. I think it's only necessary that I introduce you two."

Jenna instantly shook my head, declining her offer. There was no way she was going to be introduced to the wealthiest man in the whole entire city of Gotham. Not only did he have enough money to make him suitable to any young lady of high standing, but he was also single. There could be nothing worse in Jenna's point of view. Her father had mentioned Bruce Wayne a few times to her in hopes that she might take an interest in the promising bachelor, but she had shown no interest whatsoever hoping he would drop the topic altogether and fortunately for her, he did eventually. If she were to be introduced to Bruce tonight, though, she knew that her father would swoop in like a vulture to try and set up a date for them. There was no way she was going to let that happen. It was bad enough that she was forced to attend every banquet thrown by her father, but to be set up with a snobbish aristocrat on top of that; it would be enough to drive her straight to the loony bin.

"No thank you, Mrs. Whitman." She let her lips part some so that she could smile all the more, hoping that would help to convince the elder lady to let go of any hopes she had for Jenna. "I was actually just about to make my way over to the hors d'oeuvres. Maybe some other time, though."

Mrs. Whitman looked taken aback by the decline of her offer, but nodded none-the-less. Jenna figured she was contemplating some other way of intervening on the young woman's love life.

Moving quickly past the older woman, Jenna sighed in relief as she made it to the refreshments. Her eyes scanned over the food and she cringed; she should have known her father would only serve coleslaw and caviar with crackers and wine. Just the stench of the appetizers made her want to gag and she quickly turned the other way. She regretted this movement immediately.

"Jenna, it's been so long." The smooth, slightly deep voice was one Jenna recognized instantaneously.

"Brandon," She murmured as she glanced up at the young man. Her eyes observed how his hair was neatly slicked back in a way she seemed to find grotesque. She never remembered him using hair products before, but it had been awhile since their last meeting so she figured many things probably had changed. "How are you?" The question was simple and she figured it was sufficient enough.

"I've been better." He shrugged slight, the wine glass in his hand tilting to the side some making the transparent liquid slosh around clumsily. "I was actually wondering why you haven't returned any of my calls or emails."

Jenna had desperately hoped he wouldn't bring up her obvious neglect towards any contact with him, yet they were labeled now in vain as he finished his accusation. "Sorry," She muttered, though it wasn't even half-heartedly. "I've been busy with work and I figured there wouldn't be much conversation between us now ever since last winter."

"Just because we split doesn't mean I don't want us to keep in contact."

Jenna knew there was more than this. Throughout their relationship – which hadn't lasted very long in Jenna's opinion; about two months if she could recall correctly – Brandon had always been the one to initiate everything. He would always call her to set up a date, he would always come by to bring her flowers to surprise her, he was the one to propose they become more serious. Jenna had never wanted any of it. The only reason she had gone along with it was because of her father. She had ended when Brandon went overseas, blaming the break up on the distance that was to be put between them while he was away.

Reaching a hand up, Jenna nervously pushed a few tendrils behind her ear. She wanted nothing more than for him to just leave her be. How she wished he could read her mind, which at the moment, was clearly thinking of her nonexistent feelings for Brandon.

"We'll have coffee once work calms down, okay?" She hoped this would pacify him for a little while.

It did. "Is that a promise?" Jenna nodded and smiled thickly.

This seemed to satisfy him for the time. Reaching his hand out, he grasped hers in his. He rose their hands slowly before lowering his face, brushing his soft lips against the back of her hand in a gentle kiss. As he pulled his face away, she quickly yanked her hand from his grasp, a blush apparent on her cheeks. There was no need for that kind of gesture where everyone could see. In fact, there was no need for that kind of gesture at all!

Smirking, he gave her one last look-over before turning away to start up a conversation with someone else. She shuddered, resenting how many people she now had to either meet or go out on an awkward 'friend' date with.

After standing undisturbed in an almost calm silence for a little while, Jenna inwardly groaned as she was addressed again. Why did she have to be born with the name Van der Pol?

She smiled loathingly throughout the next several conversations she was put through. Every time she was confronted she felt as if a pair of hands were grasping onto her throat, putting more and more pressure on her trachea each time another individual felt the need to talk with her. Finally the hands had choked her hard enough and she quickly excused herself from the presence of whoever it was she was talking to – she honestly wasn't keeping track. The fact that she was finding it hard to breathe was leaving her a bit lightheaded and so she lost focus on who she was talking to throughout the last few conversations she had become entangled in.

Wandering around the outside of the room for a bit, she grinned inwardly as she found the French doors that led to the balcony were open. Jenna could never remember walking faster in her life as she made her way towards the doors. Her stride was quick for she knew that if she spent a moment longer in that room she would surely keel over from lack of oxygen or normality, really. Reaching the door way, she quickly stumbled out onto the balcony, the night's air fresh and cool in her lungs. She breathed in selfishly, not able to get enough of the crisp air.

"Couldn't handle it in there either?" Jenna literally jumped as she heard the silken voice of another individual. She had assumed she was the only one occupying the balcony.

Turning towards where the voice had come from, she felt her eyebrow rise. Her eyes observed the young man. He was nobility all right; it was obvious from his attire, which consisted of a clean-cut suit, Italian shoes, and a bow tie instead of just an average tie. Jenna seemed to always notice her father and his cronies all wore bow ties and so she figured it had something to do with status. Her gaze wandered to his face and she was surprised to find that the stranger was actually…attractive. His complexion was slightly tanned and was framed nicely with high cheekbones and small slivers for lips. His eyes, which were set nicely under his dark eyebrows, were also a chestnut color matching his perfectly slicked back brunette tendrils.

Realizing that she hadn't answered his question, Jenna let her gaze fall somewhat as she shrugged her shoulders. "I guess you could say that."

She heard him chuckle some making her eyes snap back to stare at his face. He seemed to be laughing at her answer knowing that his assumption had been completely correct. Taking the few steps towards her, he held out his hand while letting a small smirk tug at his lips. Hesitantly Jenna lifted her petite hand letting him take hers within his own and shake it slowly. "Bruce Wayne," He said in a calm tone.

For a moment Jenna didn't respond, taken aback by who he claimed he was. This was Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham? Her eyes seemed to widen some as she stared at the attractive young man, her mind going a mile a minute. Of all the people that could have been out there on the balcony with her, it had to be Bruce Wayne. She hoped that her father or Mrs. Whitman didn't see them shaking hands because if either of them did there would be utter chaos in store for her. First would be a bombardment of questions of how they got introduced and then would come the matchmaking.

Jenna had to get out of there. She had to get out of there fast.

"Jenna Van der Pol," She responded with a small twitch of the lips. "It's nice to meet you really, but I have to be going back inside now. If my father catches me out here he won't be pleased." She quickly retracted her hand from his, letting it fall against her side where it belonged.

Her eyebrow raised more as she saw his smirk widen and she wondered what he found so amusing. "You don't have to lie, Ms. Van der Pol. I can see it in your eyes that you don't want to go back in there, but if you're that keen on getting away from me, then be my guest."

Jenna's jaw dropped. It was as if this man had just read her mind exactly. Her shocked expression must have been quite humorous because Bruce began to chuckle again, his mouth opening some so that his pearl-tinted teeth were shown. Composing herself somewhat, Jenna crossed her arms trying not to scowl at the man.

"It's not that I don't want to converse with you, it's just that my father would be very upset to see me outside and away from the banquet." She figured this was a sufficient enough excuse.

"Do you really care about pleasing your father that much?" She shot a glare at Bruce once the question had left his lips. "Because even if you honestly did, I would think us being caught together alone would make him very pleased."

The comment Bruce made caused Jenna to gag some. "Well, it seems someone is a little full of himself." Forget being polite, Jenna wanted nothing more than to take a few notches out of the man's ego before leaving to go back inside.

"Or maybe you want him to catch us talking together." He raised a suspicious eyebrow, the smirk still apparent on his lips.

"How dare you accuse me of something so low." Her tone was full of spite as she glared all the more, her face growing harsher. "Now if you will excuse me, Mr. Wayne."

Uncrossing her arms, she took a few steps forwards to move past him. She had had enough of that snobbish man's comments and wanted nothing more than to get away from him. She figured enduring the questioning of her father's friends inside would be much better than having to defend herself against Bruce Wayne.

"Wait a minute," Jenna's eyes snapped to the brunette man's as she felt him grasp her arm to hold her back. "Maybe I've come off a bit harsh."

She laughed dryly. "Maybe?"

Smiling somewhat, Bruce used his grasp on her arm to pull her away from her trail towards the French doors, leading her away so that the doors were almost out of sight. Once he was satisfied at their location, he removed his hand from Jenna's arm so that he could take her hand once more in his. "Let's start over, agreed?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes following their hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Van Der Pol." Jenna felt like laughing, finding their second introductory a bit ridiculous.

"Don't call me that. It makes me feel old." It was true, really. Jenna had always hated when people would call her 'Ms. Van der Pol' or even 'ma'am.' It made her feel like a widowed old lady and she resented being called either of those names.

"Sorry," Bruce said in a joking sort of way, finding her resentment towards the name a bit amusing.

Raising his hand that was holding hers, he smirked in a devilishly handsome sort of way before lowering his lips closer to the skin that occupied the back of her hand. Oxygen was lacking in her lungs as she felt his warm breath hit the vulnerable skin of her hand. She wanted so desperately to pull her digits away from him, yet she stayed immobile. Lowering his face the rest of the way, he slowly brushed his slightly chapped lips against her skin.

Jenna felt a shiver divulge from the joints in her hand, the sensation traveling up her arm and then throughout her body making the young woman shudder involuntarily. She could feel that her pulse had sped up tremendously, a feeling that had never occurred when Brandon had executed such a gesture towards her. She quickly glared at the mysterious man knowing full well that he was teasing her.


	2. The Commissioner

Author's note: Chapter 2 revamped and reposted! A few things edited here and there. Hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave a review! :)

Disclaimer: Refer to Chapter 1...

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**The Commissioner**

_Chapter Two_

Quickly Jenna pulled her hand away from his grasp, letting her gaze dart sharply to the side as she murmured softly, "The more people do that, the more my stomach wants to jump out of my mouth…"

Her eyes snapped back to the Wayne heir as she heard the velvety rumbling of his soft chuckle. Was he laughing at what she had said or was he just laughing at her? Jenna's eyes narrowed venomously and she glared at him. "I don't see what you find so funny, Mr. Wayne."

Cocking a dark eyebrow, he let that ridiculous smirk paint its way across his lips once more. "Bruce."

Her glare deepened and she bit back the urge to spit out a 'yeah, whatever.' She wasn't in high school anymore and knew that if she let such comments just fly freely she would make an immature fool of herself. Wrapping her arms slowly around herself, she proceeded to cross them over her chest finding that the night's air was a bit nippier than it had been when she had arrived. It was darker too. For a moment she wondered just how late it was or how long had she even been there. It couldn't have been more than an hour, though, she felt like it had been centuries since she walked through the entrance doors.

Relaxing her gaze, the young woman let her eyes wander to the side her attention lost to the entrancing night sky. Staring for a while, she found it interesting that the moon seemed to be morphing from one shape to another. Watching closer, she was amused to find that it was the dreary clouds that made the moon change shapes. They would linger a little ways away from the illuminated sphere before curiously inching forwards to plant a small kiss upon its surface before retreating once more. It was like a tiny ritual between the two; or maybe even a game. The clouds would teasingly tag the moon with their moist lips before scurrying away so as to not get tagged back. It was like watching children on a playground.

Jenna shivered involuntarily as the night's air blew softly against her just as a person may blow towards a flame to extinguish it. Her amusement vanished as she noticed that she hadn't moved, Bruce Wayne still standing in front of her, though, his smirk had lessened quite a bit.

"You're not very talkative." Emerald eyes snapped to the wealthy man, the young woman's frown becoming more evident as her eyebrows began to tilt upwards in anger. What was it about Bruce that made her furious? Maybe it was what he said or could it possibly just be the sound of his voice? No – she concluded that it was the fact that he had money. Anyone who had enough money to flaunt in the face of other's less fortunate automatically made it onto her bad side.

"I don't think we have much to talk about, really." Hugging her arms around herself tighter, she tilted her head to the side, a smirk finding its way to her lips. "You'd probably bring up something like the stock market or how many businesses you've managed to buy in the last week with your nonstop income that you barely have to even work for. And I, thinking both topics are a waste of oxygen to talk about, would then excuse myself and go back inside to hide behind the refreshment table or something."

Jenna had to bite her lip so that her smirk wouldn't grow out of control. True, that comment had been a bit harsh but she felt it was somewhat called for. Bruce had been rude to her earlier and so she was just dishing out what he had already served. Silence encompassed the pair and the young woman watched with curiosity as the billionaire's face seemed to fall, the amusement that had once occupied his features now completely gone.

"And you're guessing I would converse about those things just because I have a lot of money?" Crossing his arms in front of himself, Jenna watched as he grasped one hand in the other, waiting for her answer patiently. She wondered what was really going on inside that brain of his.

"Precisely." Her lips twitched a bit more, her smirk not yet full grown.

"And what about you?" Jenna tilted her head a bit more, her chocolate stained locks falling to caress her shoulder as he spoke. "You wouldn't strike up a conversation by noting how I'm Gotham's most well known bachelor and how your last relationship has coincidently just ended in time for us to start dating?"

The woman could feel her eyes grow in size, surprised that he was taking the offensive just as he had done before. "Are you trying to say something?"

"It was merely a question." His face held that air of amusement again which only further ignited the irritation that was already burning inside the brunette.

"I'm not some bimbo who comes to these banquets to meet young men just so I can start using him for his money. In case you didn't realize, I'm the daughter of the second wealthiest man in Gotham. Money is the last thing I will ever want or need." Her lips pursed as she finished.

Bruce's coy smirk still stayed in place and he quickly reached forwards to grasp her hand, pulling her arms from their crossed position.

"No need to get so defensive, Jenna. Like I said, it was just a question." Patting her hand with one of his while the other held onto hers gently, he continued, "I was just curious as to your motives for coming out here when I'm here and alone."

Her gaze darted to her hand being held by his and she growled inwardly, pulling her digits back to her. "If I had known you were out here, I wouldn't have come out at all."

A spark of a new feeling arose in Jenna as she saw Bruce's eyes flash a new color; shock. She was curious as to why he would feel any sort of astonishment at what she had said, but figured it was because she had so bluntly stated how keen she was on avoiding him. Before coming out onto the balcony she had resisted everyone's offers to meet him feeling that if she was introduced it would just be another pompous billionaire to add to her life's collection and now that she had actually met with him she found that her conclusions about his character had been correct.

Her eyes caught sight of his mouth parting so as to let him speak but she quickly cut him off, wanting him to know the full extent of her feelings. "From the moment I was informed of who you are and your standing while also learning of your reputation I have concluded that you are the last man I would ever be obliged to date, let alone be seen with."

His face held a look of utter shock and humiliation. From what Jenna had stated he could easily infer her feelings of true resentment towards him and he had to say it was a bit irritating to be judged before he had even made his real personality known. Of course, it was only Alfred and Rachel who had the knowledge that Bruce Wayne was just a cover up for who he really was.

"So this is what you think of me, then?" His voice depicted his frustration.

Jenna nodded briskly.

"And you feel that this opinion of me is warranted even though we have not spent more than a half an hour outside conversing with one another?" He pursed his lips for a moment before adding. "And what do you mean 'reputation?'"

The young woman purposefully avoided the first question. "Naivety isn't your best act, Mr. Wayne. It was all over gossip magazines and sometimes even the news. Your relationship with that lady attorney at the local DA's office was no secret."

"Rachel?" His face contorted in confusion.

Again, Jenna nodded.

"We never had a relationship like the one you're hinting at. If you're susceptible enough to believe the lies all those magazines wrote than that is your own fault. I would think you were better than that, believing rumors just because they were printed and sold to the public." He sighed, somewhat. This girl definitely had a sour side. "Rachel and I are childhood friends, nothing more. This reputation you speak of is nonexistent."

"Oh, yeah? Then what do you have to say about all those times you've been spotted with European models? The whole world knows you for the playboy you are, Bruce Wayne, including me." Jenna was stubborn. She would never change her mind about Bruce until there was proof of his innocence.

It was true that Bruce would invite young super models with him to banquets or social gatherings to keep up the ruse, but like everything else it was just an act. He never was attracted to them and there was never any type of real relationship behind any of them. He paid them their dues while also giving them some time in the spotlight. He thought it was fair, though, he could see Jenna was convinced other wise. There was really no use to fight her at the moment and so he let himself be defeated by her accusations.

Taking her hand in his, he shook it gently before using it to pull her closer to him. He could smell the aroma of her breath as it mingled with his, her look of surprise and then pure irritation added yet another blow to his self esteem. He had no idea he was so resented by someone he had never met before in his life. Clearing his throat, he murmured, "I hope to change your opinion of me in the future. For now, I'll leave you with a final good night."

He leaned a bit closer, teasing her almost before letting go of her hand and then strolling back inside the banquet.

Jenna watched the man wander back inside the building, her mind already feeding her flashbacks of the moments that had just passed. She cursed her habit of analyzing a situation. She couldn't help it, though. The more she thought about what had just occurred the harder it was to fight the advancing feelings of regret and shame. She really had no reason to be so judgmental of the Wayne heir but for reasons beyond her, she couldn't control the comments she had let fly his way.

In a way, she did feel as if she had shamed herself and, not that she really cared, her father as well. She could have easily put on the same face she wore while conversing with any other individual of notable standing. She did keep it in her back pocket while attending any of her banquets, metaphorically speaking. The young woman was stubborn, though, and she would stick with her opinion that all wealthy inhabitants of this world – not segregating race or religion – are, in one way or another, selfish and by nature cruel down to the very core. It was a realization she wished she had never found out and yet knew that it was impossible to avoid.

Shivering more frequently now, Jenna decided her time on the balcony was all but spent out. Giving a heaving sigh, she decided to try and make the best of the rest of the night. It seemed, though, that the guilty feelings, which possessed her persona, were relentlessly weighing her down and she was embarrassed to find that she practically had to drag herself inside the edifice.

To Jenna's mortification, it seemed as though she walked in on Mayor Armand Krol's annual speech about the progress and prosperity that Gotham was being graced with. Her eyes were wide and her throat grew dry as the sounds of her heels hitting the tiled floor were personified by the silence of the room. Dark, sullen eyes slithered onto her silhouette and she cringed openly. A brief moment of unimaginable discomfort swept through the length of the room before the mayor finally decided to let his gaze melt away from Jenna. After clearing his throat to bring the attention from the girl and back onto him, he let a tight smile capture his lips as he continued his speech.

"Unfortunately life is short, and the possibility of Gotham's destruction at the hand of our adversaries is growing all the more absolute. That is why I say to any who can contribute, now is the time to give back to Gotham that which Gotham has given to you. Though our reconstruction of the Narrows is going according to plan, financial support is always welcomed by the city's government…" Jenna couldn't stand to listen to the rest.

Unlike everyone else that occupied the room, she knew the truth about the Narrows and the rest of Gotham. Almost no work was being put into action in the Narrows and so the crime rate was considerably high. The area was beginning to rot; the lower levels already victim to utter desolation and despair. The money donations Mayor Krol was insisting upon were absolutely useless considering more than eighty percent of the finances went to the government officials and their families, the other twenty percent barely finding its way to the Narrows. The government's corruptness was only heightened by the anarchist mayor that ruled over the city.

Forgetting about Gotham's corruption and the earlier incident with Bruce Wayne, Jenna hollowly clapped along with the rest of the crowd as the mayor finished his speech. Letting her gaze fly right and left, she let her shoulders fall in relief when she found her father conversing with unfamiliar faces. Hastily, the young brunette woman made her way towards him, smiling briefly as her name was called out through the crowd by someone or other.

Clearing her throat somewhat, she nodded politely to the people her father was talking to before turning towards him. "I know the rules of the agreement were to stay the entire length of the banquet, but I'm afraid I'll have to leave early."

Her father cocked an eyebrow, frowning deeply as the couple he was conversing with left into the wave of entities. "And what may be the reason for your early departure?"

She hated the fact that he made his question sound so sophisticated and yet also so condemning. "I have to leave early tomorrow to meet with the Commissioner in the Narrows. I should probably get at least an hour of sleep so that I can function properly tomorrow while I work with him on our new case."

"Jenna, it's only half an hour past midnight." He seemed to think this was early.

"Well, I know I said one hour of sleep would be nice, but I'm actually hoping for maybe two or three." She crossed her arms, biting her lip. She was considerably anxious about her father's response to her desire to fly the coop early.

He seemed to be contemplating the situation, his thick eyebrows furrowing and then lifting before intertwining downwards once more. Finally, he nodded slowly. His eyes never met hers as he spoke. "If it's because of your job, then I give you permission to go." He went quiet for a moment before murmuring, "Why you would go to the Narrows just for work is beyond me, though."

Jenna rolled her eyes before muttering a 'thanks' and then making her way frantically to the exit. As she brutally mulled her way through the crowd of powdered heiresses and pompous aristocrats, her eyes caught sight of a slightly tanned figure with piercing dark eyes and statuette set cheekbones. Bruce Wayne. For a moment Jenna stopped to stare. She was thankful his attention was turned away from her as she continued to observe him from across the room. He was standing calmly, conversing with a person she could only guess was one of his partners in the rich industry. Shaking her head, she turned away.

The cool wind whipped harshly at her shoulders and arms as she exited the building. Her mind felt no concern for the weather, though. Instead, it could only focus on the last thing Bruce Wayne had said to her on the balcony. 'I hope to change your opinion of me in the future…' What exactly he meant by that was what Jenna was musing on the most. Did he think that they were going to meet again in the future? In Jenna's opinion, she was hoping for the exact opposite. Her avoidance of the man would have to be doubled considering there was now a chance of him trying to pursue her just to change her mind.

It was really pointless of him to try and persuade her to change her judgment of him. She was stubborn, this fact being established before, and she was determined to take her opinion with her to the grave.

Her attentions were drawn elsewhere as she was tapped on the shoulder. Turning sideways, she rose a questioning eyebrow at the butler who stood in front of her. Smiling in that butler sort of way, he held out his arm – her coat dangled loosely over it. Throwing out a careless 'thanks,' she grasped her jacket quickly before shrugging it on. Sighing contently, she hugged her coat more around her loving the warmth that was steadily seeping into her limbs. A flash of lights temporarily blinded her, causing Jenna to raise a dainty hand to her eyes. Blinking a few times, she squinted as her mouth turned down in a discontent frown. Her dampened attitude lightened a bit, though, as she realized it had been her car that had blinded her, the chauffeur already at her side with her keys.

She thanked him nonchalantly before grasping her keys and rushing into the confinements of her car. It was late and she was exhausted. The ride home was smooth and uneventful for the most part, which Jenna was thankful for. Once home, the young woman carelessly tossed her belongings down, slipped off her murderous heels, and plopped into bed.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The young brunette groaned, her hand tiredly searching for the alarm clock. Her efforts were useless, though, and the noise continued to grow louder.

"Damnit," Jenna's eyes flashed open and she sat up before quickly grasping the contraption that was causing all the racket. Six thirty in the morning. "God help me," Jenna muttered to herself as a low yawn passed through her lips. Hitting the 'off' button on her alarm clock, she set the machine back down on her night stand before raising her hands above her head. Arching her back this way and that, she grunted in satisfaction as her spinal cord popped into place.

"Well, time to get ready." Throwing the sheets off of her, Jenna quickly dashed to the bathroom before the cool air could nip at her skin. Her shower was quick and her transition into her work clothes was even quicker. The young woman couldn't afford to waste a minute considering her meeting with the Commissioner was scheduled for eight o'clock sharp. If she was late she knew she would risk the chance of being fired. Jenna looked over herself one last time in the mirror. The glance was only a moment, her concern lying on other things rather than her appearance.

Grasping her keys as she rushed out the door, the young heiress was hurried in her movements as she started her car. It would take her a good half an hour or so to get to the Narrows; that would give her just enough time. Starting her car, Jenna quickly pulled onto the street, her foot barely leaving the gas pedal.

For the first twenty minutes the roads were, for the most part, abandoned which Jenna was pleasantly surprised to see. If this kept up she would be able to reach the Narrows even sooner than she predicted. A smile crept onto her features as her hand flicked the switch to the radio.

The smile that had adorned her pink lips fell within the next five minutes. Anxious molars chewed at the flesh that occupied the inside area of Jenna's cheeks. It was bumper to bumper traffic into the Narrows. "This is just my luck," Jenna muttered to herself, her hand punching the horn to her car as a truck tried to cut in front of her.

For the next thirty minutes Jenna was stuck in the headache inducing traffic with nothing but the radio to keep her company and the thoughts of possibly getting fired to entertain her psyche. As her car neared the end of the bridge, Jenna was thankful to find that the traffic congestion was thinning out. As soon as she was able, the young woman practically floored it as she made her way down the street towards the building where she was to meet the Commissioner. Pulling up to the curb, Jenna quickly parked her car before sliding out and locking the automobile.

Eight forty-five. Jenna was late; considerably late.

The young brunette groaned as she made her way down the street towards the police station.

"Look! Over there!"

"What happened? Is that man dead?"

"Move it! I need to get a better view; I'm a reporter!"

Jenna looked up, her eyes meeting the site of a mob of civilians all crowded around some sort of scene. The commotion, Jenna found, was located just past the police station. Her curiosity sparked and eventually got the best of her as the young heiress made her way towards the crowd. Searching the crowd as she neared, keen eyes found the site of a few police men trying to evade the crowd.

"Excuse me!" Jenna strolled up to the officers, a small smile adorning her lips. She had learned at an early age that flattery was always the best way to get what you want. "Could either of you tell me where I might find Commissioner Gordon?"

Her eyes searched the policeman who spoke up first. He was shorter than the other, middle aged with many wrinkles forming around his face and sliding their way around his deep set eyes. "He's over there," His stubby finger pointed towards the center of the crowd. "Who are you?"

"I'm Jenna Van der Pol and I work for the Gotham City Drug Control and Investigations Office. I have a meeting with the Commissioner." Jenna stood a bit straighter fixing the folders in her arms, which she had managed to grab from her car before she had exited the vehicle.

The policeman squinted his eyes, looking her over as if trying to find out if she was telling him the truth or not. Jenna's gaze did not falter, though, and he finally nodded before saying, "Alright, come with me. I'll lead you through this mess."

Grabbing her arm, the man quickly made his way through the crowd, pulling the young girl with him. The journey through the crowd was brutal as Jenna felt her body run and bump into person after person and she was thankful when she finally broke through the mob. Her eyes caught sight of a few more policemen standing around in a circle. Jenna eyed each one, her gaze staying on a middle-aged man wearing thick-rimmed glasses with a moustache adorning his top lip. His face was grim and his eyes downcast. His face showed experience and Jenna quickly assumed he was Commissioner Gordon.

"Commissioner," The mustached man glanced towards the police officer who had addressed him. "This girl says she has a meeting with you. She's from the G.C.D.C.I."

Jenna watched as the Commissioner's eyes found their way to her. He glanced over her features for a moment before nodding. "Thank you for delivering her to me, Officer."

Pulling her arm from the policeman's grasp, Jenna thanked the man before making her way towards the Commissioner. "Good morning, sir." Her tone was pleasant as she offered the man a small smile and an outstretched hand.

Her smile faltered, though, as she noticed that Gordon's eyes weren't focused on her any longer. Her hand fell back to her side as stared at the troubled man.

"Is it a good morning?" Her eyebrows furrowed and she followed the Commissioner's stare towards the site of a male body sprawled across the sidewalk.

Jenna's hand quickly flew to her mouth, her eyes scanning over the pale blue corpse. The man was obviously dead. "Who did this?" The young woman asked, her voice almost completely muffled by her hand.

She saw Gordon shrug out of the corner of her eye, his expression turning to her. "You're here about the Falcone gang, right?" She nodded briskly. "Come with me."

She pursed her lips as she watched the man make his way towards the police station; she quickly followed behind him. Shocked eyes widened, though, as Jenna watched the Commissioner suddenly turn into an alley that occupied the space between the police station and an abandoned building. Shrugging, she decided to follow him into the dark alley; she had orders after all.

Once inside the shadows of the alley, Gordon turned towards the young heiress. The grim look that had occupied his features before had not left its residence.

"I have reason to believe this murder is linked to the Falcone gang." Jenna's eyebrows furrowed and she shuffled the folders in her arms.

"Why do you believe that, sir?" She wanted to know the details before agreeing with the man, Commissioner or not.

"He's been in prison a few times for small felonies. A couple of those times he shared cells with the main Falcone family. We never suspected him of ever converting to their gang, but there's no other explanation to his murder. He must have joined and then realized it was too much and when he wanted out, they killed him." He shrugged. "It is what most gangs do after all."

Jenna kept silent for a moment. "The Falcone family is known for their drug enterprise, correct?"

The Commissioner nodded, his arms crossing over his chest. "Well, then maybe he did join the gang, but I don't think he wanted out. What do all mob members want? Money, right? He must have realized how much money he could make selling the Falcone drugs and so he probably snatched a stash from the family and tried to sell it for his own profit."

"That sounds reasonable," The Commission nodded, wrinkles of thought slowly appearing on his forehead.

"I have some folders here that pertain to the Falcone gang's drug dealings. They could be of some assistance," Jenna shuffled the folders that occupied her arms once more.

"We won't need folders to prove it was the Falcone family," Jenna went rigid. It was a new voice that had spoken the statement; a deep, raspy voice that made the young woman's spine tingle in fear. Her eyes watched as Gordon's gaze flew past her. The stranger was behind her. Jenna was frozen for a moment, afraid to turn around and reveal the identity of the stranger. Finally, curiosity got the best of her and the young woman slowly turned on her heels.

Her eyes widened at the sight she was met with. Standing just beyond the shadows was a tall man dressed as a bat.

* * *

Author's Note: Constructive criticism is welcome!


	3. The Batman

Author's note: Alright, I've decided to clear some things up before you read onwards into chapter three! First, in case you haven't noticed...I am basing Jenna off of Jane Austen's chacter, Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice. Some of you are probably wondering why Jenna was acting like such a stuck-up to everyone in the last few chapters...that's just her character. She tends to hold prejudices against people with money because of her own background. Her interaction with Bruce Wayne is supposed to reflect the interaction between Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. NOW, that doesn't mean I'm copying Pride and Prejudice! I merely thought it would be interesting to sort of base my characters off of the two main characters of Jane Austen's novel. Batman is a comic book turned movie and therefore it would be hard to copy a story line set in England during the 1800's. They are two different worlds completely.

Anyways, I just wanted to clear that up because I'm hoping that none of you are judging Jenna's character based solely on the first two chapters. She is a MUCH deeper character than that. I know the first two chapters seem to be pointing to a very unoriginal and overused plot seen in many Batman fanfics, but I promise you it's not. I just hope that all you faithful readers and new readers alike will stick with me as the story continues to unfold! Thanks for listening to my little rant/explanation. :)

Disclaimer: I have $100 to my name. I sure as heck don't own Batman.

* * *

**The Batman**

_Chapter Three_

Bruce let his lips fall into a thin line as he sipped at the glass of scotch he had poured himself a few moments ago. Languidly sitting on the sofa that occupied the main room of his penthouse he let himself think about the night's events, particularly who was involved in them. He felt his frown grow all the thinner as his mind thought of a certain name: Jenna Van der Pol. Taking another sip of alcohol, Bruce let his thoughts mull over the young woman he had met only a few hours ago.

In all of his life, he had never known anyone quiet like her. From the short moments they had spent conversing on the balcony he had observed that she was short-tempered, brash, and completely independent of wealth or luxury. He thought back to her father, Charles Van Der Pol. He was completely opposite of his daughter. Bruce knew from tabloids and newspaper articles that Charles was desperately attempting to become his rival in wealth and social standing. Bruce felt no threat, though, knowing that Charles lacked the charm and deep-rooted connections the Wayne family, or more particularly he, possessed. He frowned at this thought. Vanity, although useful in drawing attention from any speculations of why Bruce Wayne sometimes decided to just disappear for a few days or weeks on end, was not something he prided himself in.

Charles had invited Bruce to his annual charity banquet not only because Bruce had given him permission to rent out the ballroom of the hotel he had only recently come into possession of, but also as an important guest to gain social status from. Any banquet that Bruce Wayne attended was sure to grace tabloids for days following the event, Charles knowing this of course.

Bruce had considered declining when offered an invitation to the event, but decided otherwise when Alfred, his trusted butler, had prompted he should go. He had neglected attending the last few banquets he had been invited to and he didn't want the media to become skeptical. The Van Der Pol banquet would satisfy the tabloids for a while. It would be like all the others anyways. Upon arrival, Charles treated Bruce like royalty. His champagne glass was never empty as the Van der Pol host introduced him to wealthy business tycoons whom he had little to no interest in.

About halfway through one of the numerous introductions, Bruce found himself short of breath as a sharp pain reared through the left side of his chest. Discreetly grasping his side, he politely dismissed himself from the group using the restroom as his excuse. Massaging his muscles as he made for an exit, the Wayne heir bit the inside of his cheek with his molars as another wave of pain shot through him. He had thought his two broken ribs would be healed by now, but apparently the progress proved to be moving stubbornly slower than he had predicted. He swore under his breath as his vision blurred from the throbbing sensations emanating from underneath his hand. He grasped his side tighter as he caught sight of open French doors leading out to a balcony.

Heading towards the doors, he figured he would find some time alone there to recuperate and escape from the insufferable Van Der Pol and the rest of the nameless crowd he had agreed to socialize with for the night. Letting out a strangled sigh of relief, Bruce groaned lightly as he tried soothing the pain by massaging the area with his fingers; it didn't work. Taking a few deep breaths, he silently cursed Alfred for talking him into coming to the damn banquet. Suspicious media or not, he was Batman for God's sake! He didn't have time for silly things like charity banquets and whatnot. He should instead be at home resting for the next time the night skies called for his aid.

Stiffening up as he heard a noise behind him, Bruce slowly turned around to see who had discovered his hiding place. His chocolate brown eyes glanced up as he caught sight of a lone silhouette draped casually against the balcony's railing. Bruce watched as the young woman breathed in deeply before letting out a low sigh, her hands clutching the railing tightly before releasing it from her grasp. The Wayne heir rose an eyebrow, his interest heightening a tad. The young woman who stood a few yards away from him differed significantly from the female guests whom he knew graced the banquet with their presence. Unlike the scandalous models, unfaithful wives, and unashamed gold-diggers, this woman seemed awfully...normal.

The dress she wore was a simple black gown, a designer brand not coming to mind as his eyes scanned over it. Her dark hair, he observed as his gaze rose from her attire, wasn't worn in a way that appeared as though it took hours to assemble. In fact, he was surprised to find it laying lazily around her shoulders with no particular rhyme or reason about it. From her manner, Bruce could tell she was glad to be rid of the party for a few moments. He wondered briefly why she was even at the banquet in the first place. Not only did her attire show that she was of no standing financially, and she probably hadn't tried too hard to impress anyone when getting ready for the evening, her attitude prompted that she didn't even desire to be attending the social event. His curiosity peaked.

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to leave unless he received some answers about this mysterious woman, Bruce decided to strike up a conversation. Striding a bit closer to her, he let his lips slip into his infamous cavalier smile as he offered, "Couldn't handle it in there either?"

His eyes observed as her figure jumped slightly at the sound of his voice. She turned slowly towards him in what he could only observe as shock and irritation. His smirk faltered somewhat as her dark, stormy eyes turned on him. Her lips twitched downwards into a small frown as her gaze took in his form. He wondered if she knew who he was, and if she did, what she would do about it.

After a few moments of silence, she seemed to catch herself as she replied back nonchalantly, "I guess you could say that."

This woman was intriguing, to say the least. Bruce found himself chuckling at her obvious disdain at his presence. Perhaps she knew who he was and was playing hard to get...or, perhaps she really didn't care. Her small glare made his laughter subside into a warm smirk. Deciding an introduction might reveal any motives she had of purposefully running into him, Bruce stepped closer to her as he held out a hand. "Bruce Wayne."

He watched as she stared at him with wide eyes. Was she shocked at his identity? He might as well have introduced himself as the masked vigilante he gallivanted as at night with the way she stared at him. Had she truly not known who he was before he had introduced himself? Bruce watched as she seemed to shake herself out of her shock just long enough to let her eyes dart around hurriedly, appearing to try and find an escape.

As if remembering her manners, she quickly replied, "Jenna Van der Pol." Her dainty hand grasped his gently.

It was Bruce's turn to be surprised as she confided to him her identity. The Wayne heir had been ignorant to the fact that Charles had a daughter. He had never read anything about her in the tabloids. To say he was intrigued was an understatement. Perhaps Charles hadn't invited him to gain social status, but instead to introduce him to his eligible daughter. He had been there when Bruce had excused himself and perhaps had sent his daughter after him to possibly get some alone time with the notorious bachelor. Her motives seemed to be becoming clearer by the minute.

Bruce started as he heard Jenna speak up. "It's nice to meet you really, but I have to be going back inside now. If my father catches me out here he won't be pleased." The contact their hands had made ended as she pulled her appendage from his.

His mind reeled, all thoughts of her motives now going out the window. If she was looking for his attention why was she so adamant about leaving his presence? It was starting to dawn on him that there might never be an end to the questions that had begun to plague him about the Van Der Pol heiress. Amused by her wariness of his company, Bruce decided to play along in order to keep her from leaving for just a bit longer.

Smirking a tad wider, he offered, "You don't have to lie, Ms. Van der Pol. I can see it in your eyes that you don't want to go back in there, but if you're that keen on getting away from me, then be my guest." He had learned reverse psychology from Rachal. It worked on the criminals he investigated, so he figured it would most likely work on Jenna as well.

He was right. "It's not that I don't want to converse with you, it's just that my father would be very upset to see me outside and away from the banquet."

Now they were getting somewhere. The second mentioning of her father was making him suspicious of her motives again and he wanted to determine what exactly they were before becoming too interested in the young Van der Pol. He continued his toying with her as he asked, "Do you really care about pleasing your father that much? Because even if you honestly did, I would think us being caught together alone would make him very pleased."

And it was true, nonetheless. Charles would most likely be very pleased indeed to see that his daughter had taken the liberty to get acquainted with Gotham's wealthiest bachelor. Anything to boost his social standing and bring him further fame and fortune would make the Van Der Pol billionaire proud. Jenna seemed more than miffed to be accused of such a thing, though. Her gaze sharpened into a venomous glare and she pursed her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest.

He watched as she indiscreetly muttered, "Well, it seems someone is a little full of himself."

Jenna seemed completely fed up with him already and had now seemed to have made it her intention to burst his bubble by outwardly showing that she didn't want anything to do with him. It was no wonder Charles hadn't boasted about his daughter publicly; she exercised no propriety around people of importance and was much too headstrong and independent to be deemed an adequate heiress. Bruce wondered briefly, though, if this attitude was all an act to arouse his interest. He decided to keep up his game a bit longer to hopefully uncover the truth of who the young Van der Pol was and what her motives were, if she had any at all.

"Or maybe you want him to catch us talking together." He let his suspicions show as he rose an eyebrow, his curious smirk never leaving his lips. He felt slightly bad for toying with her the way he was, but he knew his curiosity wouldn't be slated until he knew the truth behind the situation.

He questioned for a moment why he was so interested in this woman. Just from the few glances he chanced at observing her, he could tell she was attractive. Not the typical beauty one would see at these kind of events, but rather an appeal due to her self-reliant personality that she had already felt obliged to share with Mr. Wayne. Her apparent contempt for the banquet, him, and the situation was quite honestly a breath of fresh air. He hoped his growing trust in her genuineness wouldn't be in vain; he wasn't sure if he could handle another heiress throwing herself into his arms.

"How dare you accuse me of something so low." Bruce could tell she had had enough. "Now if you will excuse me, Mr. Wayne."

She uncrossed her arms and began to depart, but he couldn't let her leave with her thinking he was some pompous asshole. He wanted her to leave on good terms; perhaps they could be friends. He had very little of those and her headstrong nature intrigued him greatly.

"Wait a minute," Bruce grabbed her arm, hoping she wouldn't cause a scene. Her eyes snapped to his and he quickly frowned apologetically. "Maybe I've come off a bit harsh." His suspicions were pacified for the moment and his toying was over.

She wasn't amused by his apology. "Maybe?"

Bruce smiled wryly knowing he deserved her sarcasm. Deciding to bide more time with her to further apologize for his accusations, the young Wayne guided Jenna to a more secluded part of the balcony away from the noise of the party. Slowly letting go of her arm, Bruce once again donned his infamously charming smile as he asked, "Let's start over, agreed?"

They then proceeded to become introduced...again. Jenna seemed less than thrilled to being forced into spending more time with the billionaire, but Bruce couldn't let her go just yet. He knew once she walked back into the banquet she would be lost in the sea of party guests and he would most likely never see her again. Her existence was obviously less than important to her father and so he knew there was really no excuse to bring her up in their next conversation. Even if he did, he doubted Charles would offer to 'introduce' them. The man was clearly less than thrilled about his daughter being in the media, or so it would seem.

Taking her hand in his, Bruce decided to try one last trick to see if Jenna had anything to hide. Slowly, he brushed his lips against the back of her hand as he gazed at her face to gauge what kind of response she might have. Any other woman would have blushed and most likely grown giddy and giggly. Jenna, on the other hand, looked as though she might vomit. As soon as his lips left her hand, she recoiled it as if she had been burned. Her actions amused him and he couldn't help but laugh. This woman was something else.

She seemed irritated at his amusement. "I don't see what's so funny, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce could feel himself relax somewhat, relieved to know that he wouldn't be bombarded by flirtatious remarks and scandalous suggestions. Her sarcastic comments were more than welcome. He preferred anything over the usual hollow conversations he had with airheaded models and overly enthusiastic business tycoons who only longed for his attention for self-beneficial reasons.

The rest of the conversation remained about the same. She accused him of being just like every other man at the banquet, but worse because he was far wealthier and charming – these two things she knew him to use profusely to his advantage. He jokingly accused her yet again of only wanting to gain his attention because of his eligibility, which in turn caused Jenna to not only grow all the more irritated with him, but also share what she truly thought of him.

_"From the moment I was informed of who you are and your standing while also learning of your reputation I have concluded that you are the last man I would ever be obliged to date, let alone be seen with."_

Bruce set down his empty scotch glass before raising a hand to massage his temple. He had thought her temper would calm down once they 'started over,' yet she seemed determined to loathe him. Past problems with the wealthy social class maybe? He squashed the question and all of the others that were floating around in his head. He would never know now. She had made herself clear; she wanted nothing to do with him. He wasn't satisfied with that, though. Before they left the balcony he made an unofficial promise to her that he would change her opinion of him and change it he would.

Sighing, he leaned back further into the couch hoping the cushioning would help him relax some. Jenna Van Der Pol had been plaguing his mind since the moment he had met her. What was wrong with him? He couldn't think of anything other than the fact that her 'normalcy' fascinated him. Rachel was the only other person who made him feel grounded and gave him hope of having an ordinary life. Since his exposure to her of his true identity – "The Batman" – crime had escalated, though, and they rarely got to see each other. Jenna had brought the same feelings that Rachal had brought him; he needed a friend who could make him feel as though he led a somewhat normal life when he wasn't cleaning up criminals off the streets of Gotham.

No one else dared to be honest around him. Jenna, on the other hand, hadn't held anything back. She frustrated and yet fascinated him significantly. Dropping his hand from his temple, his eyes slowly moved to glance at the time. It was after one in the morning; he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. He needed to take care of some business in the Narrows. He was literally one mob member away from helping Gordon get enough evidence to arrest half of the Falcone family. He would just have to forget about Jenna Van der Pol for the rest of the night and take care of business.

He groaned suddenly as he tried to stand, falling back into the couch. His hand grasped his side and intense pain encompassed the area. Clenching his jaw he shut his eyes tightly while trying to ignore the stabbing sensations. Grabbing his side tighter, he slouched slightly in an attempt to make the pain subside.

"Ribs hurting you again, sir?"

Bruce's eyes opened and he glanced up to see Alfred standing in the doorway holding a tray. He nodded, hoping Alfred wouldn't make a big deal over it. Usually the butler stayed out of his Batman business, but he always got a certain look on his face whenever Bruce turned up with serious injuries after a night of crime fighting; that look was on his face now.

"It's not that bad, Alfred."

The butler strolled over to place the tray on Bruce's lap. The young man wasn't surprised to see a glass of water and two Advil occupying the tray. Somehow, Alfred always knew what Bruce needed at exactly the moment he needed it. He quickly took the pain medication and let the elderly butler take the tray from his lap to set onto the coffee table in the middle of the room.

"So how was the banquet, Master Wayne?" Alfred was at his side now, poking and prodding at his ribs to make sure the pain wasn't due to any further injuries.

"Typical." Bruce's mind flashed to Jenna, yet he quickly dismissed the thought. He didn't have time to think about her at the moment. After Alfred was done playing doctor he would be putting on his other 'suite' and taking the Tumbler out for drive. From now on he would have to be in his Batman state of mind.

"Ah," Alfred huffed in satisfaction as Bruce flinched when he poked a certain area on his side. "The bone's still fractured, I'm afraid. It'll probably keep giving you pain for another month or so, sir."

"Wonderful," Bruce muttered before shooing the butler's hands away. Slowly getting to his feet, he let out a long sigh. It was going to be a long night.

Once dressed in his suite and seated securely in the Tumbler, Bruce began his trek to the Narrows. He made sure to stay off the main roads as much as possible, keeping his lights off and speed quick. He hoped to go unnoticed by police and criminal alike; he didn't have time to deal with anyone else.

Pulling up to the building he and Alfred had located as the place where the Falcone family did their dealings, Bruce almost laughed at the irony of the location. The structure was an abandoned building occupying the area directly next to the Gotham City Police Station. The Family must have figured the cops would look everywhere but under their own noses; they were right. Unfortunately for them, Bruce knew one couldn't overlook the obvious.

Setting the Tumbler in 'sleep mode,' the Wayne heir made his way towards the building. As he gazed up the few stories of the structure, his dark eyes noticed a dim light flickering in the window of the second story. He smirked inwardly. Rearing around the building, he decided that using the fire escape would probably be the best way to keep the element of surprise. Carefully he grasped the rusty ladder and hoisted one foot up; the metal screeched.

"Damnit, no good," He muttered in a low voice before stealthily jumping off of the ladder. Taking a few deep breaths, he mulled over any other options he might have of reaching the second floor.

Reaching a gloved hand to his belt, he felt an idea wash over him as his fingers touched one of the new gadgets Mr. Fox had graced him with the last time he had visited the man. Unlatching them from the belt, he held them in both hands – "Cliff Climbers," or so they were called by Mr. Fox. He had explained to Bruce that they were meant to help a person climb up a cliff (or wall) when they didn't have a rope and harness.

Bruce pressed the buttons on the sides of them and watched as small blades shot out creating a sort of hook device. Glancing up to the wall, he thrust the first one into the brick. The second one followed a bit higher. The young man was glad to find that the blades, although securely stuck into the brick when pushed in, were easy to remove as well. The process took a bit longer than the ladder option would have taken him, but he made it to the second floor all the same. Letting go of the one of the Cliff Climbers, he used his free hand to push the window up so as to let himself inside. Once the glass was up far enough, he swiftly thrust himself through the window, rolling to a smooth stop on the paneled floor.

The room which he occupied now was dark, the walls rotting in certain areas as water dripped through the old wood. The stench of mildew lifted in the air. Bruce's eyes flashed to the doorway as he heard a sharp yell resound throughout the abandoned building. Soft arguing followed the outburst. He knew it had to be the men he was looking for.

Taking long, quiet steps towards the doorway, he grasped the frame as he peeked around the corner. He would have to be quick if he wanted to miss the bullets he knew would fly when the Family realized he was there. Bruce's ears perked, though, as he heard another shout and then a distinct crash as a body was thrown to the floor. It sounded as though a dispute had begun. Guns cocked and Bruce knew the fun had begun. Using the shadows of the building to his advantage, he quickly made his way into the dimly lit room. His back was against the wall as his breathing slowed to an inaudible rhythm. His dark eyes watched as the man who had been pushed to the floor slowly brushed himself off before standing up. Bruce quickly recognized him as a leader of the Falcone family. His grey suite was pressed perfectly, Italian shoes adorning his feet, and his hair slicked back against his scalp – typical mob attire. Wiping his bloodied lip, he smirked before spitting at the feet of the man who stood across from him. Bruce figured this must have been the man who yelled and pushed him down. Instantly he recognized him as his man. Now all he had to figure out was how to get the guy out unharmed and to Gordon's office before morning.

The man had a pistol out, his hand shaking as he pointed it at the leader of the mob group. He wore a raggedy and tattered suite, his face shadowed in a scruffy beard. Behind him stood two other men whom Bruce figured were his support.

"You betrayed the Family, Giuseppe," The leader smirked as Guiseppe's hand began to shake all the more.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Guiseppe's voice was defensive, yet even Bruce could hear the uncertainty in it.

"My men tell me that you've been stealing from the Family for awhile now," He smirked as Guiseppe outwardly flinched. He had been caught. "Did you honestly think you could get away with it?"

Guiseppe stayed quiet before shouting defensively, "Well, it's not fair that you get more than half the share when all of us do the dirty work, Russo! We're the ones who get killed by the feds and other dealers, not you. We should be getting twice the share you give us!" He turned to the men behind him as if asking for their support. They grunted and nodded approvingly.

Russo's smirk slid downwards into a tight frown as he took a few steps forwards. Slowly, he circled around Guiseppe with his hands crossed thoughtfully behind his back. Guiseppe's eyes were glued to him, a small trickle of sweat running down his forehead.

"Is that so?" Russo's voice was low; his patience had been tested long enough. "Who was it who saved you from that hellhole they call a jail at County, hm?"

Guiseppe didn't answer, but Bruce knew Russo was talking about himself. He had dug up enough evidence about the Falcone family to know that their most popular place of recruitment were the prisons. It didn't surprise the young Wayne that this man had chosen to join hands with the Falcone family. He knew most prisoners would grasp at any escape to get away from County; prison deaths were constantly on the rise there.

"You see, Guiseppe," Russo now stopped in front of the shaking man, his countenance appearing calm and collected. "I took you out of that place and gave you a chance at giving your son the life you've always wanted to give him – a life of money and security. Yet, that wasn't good enough for you, was it?" He paused.

Suddenly he lunged at the traitor, his hand pulled a knife from his suite to hold at Guiseppe's neck. With his other hand he held onto the back of Guiseppe's scalp, pushing the knife closer and closer against his jugular vein. Guiseppe's men whipped up their guns once more, cocking them towards Russo. Following in suite, the men whom had accompanied Russo jerked their guns up to point at the traitor's followers. The room stood quiet and motionless. The few candles that were lit flickered causing monstrous shadows to appear on the faces of the mob members.

"You don't mess with the family." Russo's face lowered close to the other man's, his eyes dark and unrelenting.

Bruce knew it was his time to move. Staying within the shadows, he made his way around the boarder of the room. He stood only a few feet away from the men, his eyes fixed on Russo. He would have to attack before the leader could do anything to harm his witness. Just as he was about to strike out at one of Russo's men, the leader swiftly dug the knife into Guiseppe's neck. Scarlet blood spewed from the wound as Russo thrust the blade from the flesh. The traitor gurgled for a moment, his eye wide in shock, before falling lifeless to the floor.

Russo stepped back, taking a handkerchief out of his suite to clean the blood from his knife. Guiseppe's men were now pointing their guns at the mob leader, their eyes wide with fright as they shook in their spots. It was time to act.

Stepping out of the shadows, Bruce pulled out his Grapple Gun and aimed it towards Russo's followers. Pulling the trigger, the weapon fired the grapple successfully hitting the two men behind the neck knocking them out. In the blink of an eye, the wire that attached the grapple to the gun snapped back and returned inside the shaft of the firearm. Bruce tucked it away quickly before turning to face Russo. The mob leader grinned as he stared at Bruce, his hands now holding a gun, which he aimed at Bruce's chest.

"Ah, so the Batman decided to grace us with his presence tonight," He chuckled sardonically. "I'm afraid I don't really have time for your games tonight, though. You see my wife's expecting me to be there when she wakes up and I really wouldn't want to worry her."

"She'll just have to be disappointed," Bruce's deep voice echoed throughout the dark room.

Russo frowned in irritation at Bruce's words, his gun raising higher. "Have it your way."

Cocking the gun, he let his finger pull the trigger. The loud shots rang throughout the structure before an eerie silence encompassed the area. Russo rose an eyebrow as he glanced around the dark room, his eyes looking for any trace of the Batman. Suddenly a gloved hand rose from behind him, grasping the arm that held the gun. Russo pulled the trigger again, but the hand that grasped his appendage pointed the gun towards the ceiling causing the bullets to shoot upwards. With one swift motion, Bruce used his other hand to grasp Russo's arm and snap the bone in two. The mob leader howled in pain as his gun crashed loudly to the floor. His arm hung limply at his side as his good hand grasped it gingerly.

The room was filled with another ominous silence as Bruce retreated into the shadows, leaving Russo to writhe in pain for a few moments. The mob leaders cursed lowly before suddenly growing silent. Soft at first, dark chuckles began to fill the room as Russo started to cackle madly. "You think you've beat me, don't you?" His chuckles subsided, his face contorting into sheer rage. "DON'T YOU?"

From out of the shadows, Bruce grabbed hold of Russo by the neck temporarily cutting off his air supply. The man choked as he gasped for air, his good hand reaching up to claw at Bruce's gloved hand. Again he began to chuckle. "You think killing me will stop the crimes? You have no idea who you're dealing with, you freak."

"I'm not going to kill you," Bruce's voice was filled with controlled rage as he let go of Russo. The mob leader gasped in air as he massaged his neck. Just as he lifted his head, Bruce's fist came in contact with his jaw. He reeled backwards to the floor, the world going black around him as his skull came in contact with the floorboards.

Taking a few steps towards the unconscious man, Bruce kicked him lightly in the side to make sure he wouldn't get up. Reaching down, he swiftly threw the limp body over his shoulder before turning to Guiseppe's men who still stood across the room from him. Each were convulsing in uncontrollable tremors as they stared at the Batman. Their lips moved as if to say something, yet all that came out was babble.

Deciding they were of no consequence to him, Bruce turned towards the door. Quickly he made his way out of the building and towards the Tumbler. Once at the vehicle, he discarded the mob leader's unconscious body into the passenger's seat. He knew the man wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. Glancing back at the building, Bruce decided he should probably make Guiseppe's murder known to Gordon. Upon entering the structure again, he noticed both of Guiseppe's men had already fled. Picking up the bloodied body of the traitor he hastily brought it outside and laid it on the sidewalk knowing that the body would be found out there.

Heading towards the Tumbler, Bruce got inside and started it up. He glanced at the time – almost seven in the morning. He knew Gordon would be arriving soon. Pulling the large vehicle into the dark alleyway that occupied the space between the police station and the abandoned building, Bruce decided he should probably leave a clue to let Gordon know he was there. Slipping into the police station, he quickly lay one of his smaller 'Batarangs' on the desk. After depositing the object, he quickly made his way back out to the alley to wait for the Commissioner to show up.

The crowd started emerging around seven forty-five; the Commissioner showed up at eight. Bruce watched as the police desperately tried to keep the civilians and the media away from Guiseppe's dead corpse. The look on Gordon's face when he saw who it was showed one of disappointment. Gordon had shared with Bruce that Guiseppe was the only mob member who would openly testify against the Falcone family. Little did Gordon know that Bruce had Serjio Russo, Carmine Falcone's right hand man, in his possession. A statement from him would put the rest of the Falcone family away long enough to clean half the drug dealers up off the streets.

Bruce's eyes stayed on Gordon as he watched the Commissioner make his way to his office. He stopped for a cup of coffee at the break room before entering the small office space. Upon reaching the desk, Bruce caught sight of him glancing at the Batarang that sat on top of it. The Commissioner reached down slowly and picked it up before lifting his gaze to glance around the room; he knew Bruce was there.

Quickly Gordon made his way back out to the crowd to inform a few of the officers to try and subdue the crowd. He then stayed close to the body, probably figuring Batman would meet him there. Bruce decided it was time to share the news of the last few hour's events to Gordon, when suddenly his eyes caught sight of a new person making their way to the scene.

A hand reached up to brush a few strands of brunette hair away from her face as the woman made her way towards the mob. She was dressed in a tight white button up shirt that was tucked into a slimming black pencil skirt. In her arms she clutched a large folder. Jenna Van der Pol. Bruce felt his eyes travel to her gaze. She was glancing around the crowd curiously. He wondered what she was doing there. It was then he realized he had never asked her where she worked. Perhaps she worked for the police department; it was a possibility. But what would an heiress be doing working for the Gotham Police?

Thinking back to the banquet, Bruce took back his last thought. Jenna wasn't a typical heiress. She was determined and self-sufficient, ready to take on even the wealthiest of Gotham's aristocrats. Working as a police officer to clean up the streets of Gotham didn't seem like that odd of a job for the woman. He watched as she interacted with one of the police officers on scene before being led to Gordon. She held out her hand as an apparent introduction indicating that she couldn't be a police officer if she had never met the Commissioner before. Bruce began to grow more curious.

He watched as they conversed, noticing that Gordon kept throwing glances at the alleyway he was located in. The Commissioner then moved away from the crowd towards the dark alley, Jenna following at his heels. Departing the vehicle with Russo, Bruce kept himself undetected as he circled around the pair whole holding onto the unconscious mob leader. He picked up their conversation, the subject being about Guiseppe's murder and his potential link to the Falcone family.

"I have some folders here that pertain to the Falcone gang's drug dealings. They could be of some assistance." Bruce watched as Jenna shuffled the folders she held in her arms. From the information she seemed to be carrying in the folders and the way she involved herself with the mob's crime, he wondered for a moment if she was some sort of private investigator. He pushed the theory aside. .

Stepping out of the shadows he offered in a low voice, "We won't need folders to prove it was the Falcone family."

Dark eyes watched as the Van der Pol heiress stiffened. Was she frightened? For a moment he was afraid that if she turned around she might realize who he was. He quickly squashed these fears. She hardly knew him. Batman wasn't the same as Bruce Wayne. Perhaps she would treat him differently. Bruce Wayne might be a pompous playboy, but Batman was not. Maybe through his alter-ego he could show her that he was more than the man who bought hotels for fun and was labeled the 'Prince of Gotham.'

His thoughts halted as she slowly began to turn around. Instead of being met with the dark, irritated gaze he had come in contact with only a few hours ago at the banquet, he was now greeted with eyes full of curiosity and slight shock. He slowly stepped further out of the shadows, placing Russo's limp body on the ground in front of him. Both Jenna's and Gordon's eyes flashed to the body and widened.

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Author's note: I re-read this a few times but if there any mistakes I'm terribly sorry! Constructive criticism is welcome! Don't forget to review. ;)


	4. The Soup Kitchen

Author's Note: Here we are, the next chapter to _Beyond Normal_. I honestly have to say that I'm not exactly pleased with this chapter. I needed to take up a few chapters to round our Jenna and give you readers a vague background story on her so the pieces come together, but I have to say, I'm not sure if I liked how this 'filler' turned out. Also, is it pathetic to say that I feel kind of uninspired by the lack of reviews for the last chapter? I get tons of hits, but no comments? I would really appreciate constructive criticism and some encouragement to continue here and there.

Anyways, this chapter might get a little confusing (along with the next few) but stick with me. It's all part of the plan.

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**The Soup Kitchen**

_Chapter Four_

Jenna stared at the man known as 'Batman' for a few moments in utter awe. His dark eyes were on her for only a moment before they flickered to Commissioner Gordon. Trying to compose herself, Jenna glanced down at the person Batman had discarded at his feet. Her eyes widened when she realized it was none other than Serjio Russo, right-hand man of Carmine Falcone's son Mario Falcone. She quickly blinked her eyes a few times to make sure the scene was real. Not only was the Batman standing in front of her, but he was delivering them one of the most wanted mob leaders in all of Gotham. She quickly opened her file and scanned through it, finding the papers labeled 'Russo.' Scanning over the pages, she began to shake her head slowly before glancing back up at the masked vigilante.

"How...how did you manage to arrest Serjio Russo?" Her voice was laced with disbelief as she stared at the stranger.

He stayed quiet for a few moments before muttering, "It was a long night."

Jenna scoffed in amazement. Taking a few strides forwards, she bent down next to the unconscious mob member and began surveying him for evidence. Her eyes caught sight of a knife peeking out from his coat pocket and she plucked it out gently. Blood stained the blade making the heiress cover her mouth in fear of growing queasy. She gasped as a gloved hand grasped the wrist that was holding the knife.

"Don't touch that," Her eyes darted to the dark stare that was directed down at her. She quickly dropped the object out of obedience or fear, she wasn't sure.

Jenna cleared her throat softy as she stood up to brush herself off. She caught Batman's gaze on her still and hurriedly glanced away, a small shudder coursing through her spine. The masked man unnerved her slightly. She wanted to laugh at the way she was acting. She could put up a brave front against some of the snobbiest, most ruthless billionaires of Gotham and yet here she was reduced to a puddle of nerves all because of a man dressed as an oversized bat. She was being ridiculous. If she wasn't afraid of her father and all of his cronies, then she shouldn't be afraid of this masked crusader.

Her eyes turned to Gordon as he spoke up. "This should be enough to get some of the members of the Falcone gang locked away at the next court hearing..." He looked thoughtful, his hand reaching up to stroke at his mustache.

"With Russo on the stand, we can get all of the leaders of the Falcone gang arrested and put on trial," Batman's voice seemed to be intensified by the walls of the alley.

"If we can get him to talk, then we could probably get half of the Family put away as well," Gordon's voiced held traces of sheer optimism. Jenna was beginning to feel no longer needed. She shifted the folders in her arms uncomfortably.

"Which would also give us enough time to get the rest of the drug dealers behind bars before any of the Family can get early parole."

Gordon nodded briskly. "Take out the leaders and the rest will follow." He paused. "And what if he doesn't talk?"

Jenna felt Batman's shadowy gaze turn on her. "That's where you come in."

She rose an eyebrow, her mouth turning downwards in confusion. "How would I get Russo to talk?"

"You won't, but I know you have enough evidence to put him behind bars. If he won't talk, then you'll have to testify against him. Gather all of the evidence your office has been able to collect on the Falcone gang and be ready with it for the hearing." Batman turned to Gordon causing Jenna to follow his gaze towards the Commissioner.

"Have your men take Russo. He won't be much good to us at County." Gordon nodded.

"But, what about –" Jenna turned towards where Batman had been standing, but stopped mid-sentence as she was met with only the sight of Russo's limp body.

She turned back to Gordon who only shrugged. "He tends to do that."

She nodded slowly. "So, what now?"

Gordon stared at her as if thinking about something once again before answering, "Come with me." He quickly moved past her, heading back towards where they had entered the alleyway.

Turning on her heels, Jenna quickly followed him. Her eyes darted to Russo as they passed him, Gordon's men already clapping handcuffs on him. He appeared to be waking up, yet the way he blinked his eyes and shook his head showed that he was still unaware of what exactly was going on. His groggy gaze lifted to stare at Jenna for a moment and she froze, a slight chill lifting the hairs on her arms. The man's lips curved into a familiar smirk before his head lulled downwards, a soft groan leaving his lips.

Taking a deep breath, Jenna turned her attention away from the mob leader and back on Gordon as she continued to follow him out of the alley. The pair swiftly made their way into the police station, finally stopping when they reached Gordon's office. As he calmly closed the door to the room, Jenna took a shaky seat in the chair opposite his desk. She clasped her clammy hands together in her lap, inwardly scolding herself for letting her nerves get the best of her. It wasn't as if she hadn't dealt with drug dealers before. In all honesty, though, she had never met a mob leader up close and personal outside of the court. The encounter had been a bit unsettling, to say the least. Not to mention the fact that she had seen his face before when she was younger. The memory of late night meetings between her stepfather and his 'friends' and secret boxes being stored in her room caused Jenna to begin ringing her sweaty hands.

"This is all a bit new for you, isn't it?" Gordon smiled softly at Jenna as he rounded his desk to take a seat at the chair behind it.

"Not new, exactly," Jenna paused to clear her throat. "I've testified against drug dealers in court before."

"Oh, good," The Commissioner seemed relieved that she at least had some experience testifying before a jury. "Because this is going to be a pretty nasty hearing."

Jenna rose an eyebrow. "How so, sir?"

"Russo isn't going to go down without a fight. He's got men paid off inside the system. Most of the court is going to be against us," Gordon's gaze was on the young heiress as he explained the situation.

"So what do you propose we do?" Jenna quit ringing her hands, her digits finding their way to clasp the folders that lay in her lap.

"We need to make sure our evidence is solid," Gordon nodded at the files she held.

"My office has everything you need to know about Russo and the Falcone gang," Jenna paused before adding. "Plus, we have statements given by witnesses who claim to have seen murders and drug dealings executed by the Falcone family. They've already signed a consent agreeing to testify at open court."

"Good," Gordon seemed pleased. "Make sure to contact all of the witnesses and let them know that we need their statements at the hearing. Also, print out copies of the written evidence you have against Russo and the rest of the Family."

Jenna nodded.

"We're going to need you to testify as well."

Jenna bit her lip, staying quiet for a moment. Finally she answered, "Yes, of course."

She wouldn't admit it out loud, but the thought of seeing Russo again made her slightly anxious. She had never felt fear towards any of the drug dealers she had testified against before, yet she couldn't help but feel sinking dread slip into her psyche as she realized she would have to face the mob leader again. The fears of her childhood began to surface once more.

Gordon sensed her apprehension. "There's no need to worry, Miss Van Der Pol. Gotham City Court has one of the highest levels of security. If you'd like, I can have some of my men escort you to and from the courthouse."

Jenna shook her head, managing a small smile. "No, no, that won't be necessary, Commissioner. I'm fine." She paused, seeing his eyes search her façade skeptically. Quickly she added, "Really."

He nodded slowly. "Well then, I'll contact you when they schedule the hearing. For now, just gather whatever evidence you have and be ready."

"Yes, sir." Jenna shook hands with Gordon quietly before exiting his office.

Glancing up as she left the station, she was surprised to find Russo seated on a bench that occupied an empty office on the way out of the building. He was smirking at her in the same fashion as before, his hands handcuffed securely in front of him. Jenna felt her throat run dry as she neared the office, dismayed to find that the door to the room was wide open. As she went to pass by the room she began to hear his low chuckle.

Her stormy eyes darted to his form as he called out, "Long time, no see."

Jenna paused, her breath shortening as she stared at the murderous mob leader. He sat calmly now as if he were leisurely sitting at a bar drinking with a friend. He seemed to hold no fear of the upcoming court case which made Jenna's skin crawl; Gordon must have been right about the Falcone gang paying off members of the court.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Her voice shook as she spoke, causing Russo's smirk to grow.

"Oh, but you do," He lifted his head a bit higher as if to let Jenna get a better look. She gasped as she recognized the scar running from the bottom of his left eye down his cheek and ending at the top of his lip. It wasn't a grotesque disfigurement, but the pink tissue smeared across his face was noticeable enough and indeed memorable.

She started as he spoke again. "Don't you remember all of the nights Lyle had us over? All of the secrets he kept from your family?" He paused. "Did you forget about why he was murdered?"

Jenna's breath caught in her throat, her eyes squinting into a glare as she stared at Russo. Hugging the folders she was holding tighter to her body, she felt anger flare up at the man as she continued to stare at him. "Don't you dare mention my stepfather's death to me."

"Ah, so you do remember," This seemed to please Russo.

Jenna turned to leave, but the mob leader spoke up again. "You can't run from the past." He was taunting her.

She turned around slowly, her lips pursed into a taut line. "I'm not running from anything. I'm staying right here to make sure filth like you get what they deserve."

"You always were a fighter, weren't you, Jenna?" His voice was mocking.

The smirk adorning Russo's lips never faltering as Jenna turned from him. Taking a few deep breaths, the heiress quickly exited the building. Shuffling into her car, she sighed unevenly as she started the vehicle up. Her hands shook as she grasped the steering wheel, her mind trying desperately to forget about the last few hours. She found it slightly ironic that out of all the mob members, she had to testify against the one whom she was loosely affiliated with. She laughed dryly to herself. She knew one day the past would catch up with her.

Making her way back to work, Jenna groaned as she entered her office. Stacks of folders were piled on her desk making it difficult for her to start anywhere. Rifling through the papers, Jenna was amazed at how much work she had to catch up on after only being gone a few hours to meet with the Commissioner. Crime truly never slowed down in Gotham. Filing some of the folders away in her desk, Jenna spent the rest the workday plowing through what she could; the rest she discarded in her 'look at later' folder.

Checking the clock, the young heiress was relieved when she realized it was time to go. Gathering her purse and a few folders she had collected on Russo, Jenna made for the elevator.

"Jenna," The young brunette turned to Pam as she heard the secretary call out her name. "Your sister called."

Jenna's eyes widened. She had forgotten it was Tuesday! Muttering a thanks to Pam, she quickly made her way on and off the elevator before flipping out her phone. Rearranging her purse and the folders, Jenna managed to balance her phone between her shoulder and ear as she made her way out to her car.

"Hello?" The heiress winced as she heard her sister's irritated voice answer the other line.

"Elise, I am so sorry I wasn't there on time. I've been so swamped with work. That's no excuse, but..." Jenna stopped her rambling before asking, "Are you still at school?"

"Yeah," Elise sighed, the anger already disappearing from her voice. "I've been waiting here over an hour, you know."

"I know, Elise, I'm sorry. Do you still want to go?" Jenna discarded her purse and folders into her car before sliding into the driver's seat. Her mouth was set in a guilty frown.

"Of course," Her sister sounded relieved that Jenna was still willing to take her, which in turn caused Jenna to feel relieved that her younger sister still wanted to see her.

"Alright, I'll be there in a little," Jenna promised.

"Okay, see you soon, sis." The line went dead before Jenna had time to respond. Flipping her phone shut, Jenna quickly began her trek to Gotham High School.

Ever since Jenna had moved out on her own she had made it a point to spend time with her younger sister. Although Elise was only related to her through her mom, Jenna still felt closer to the younger girl than anyone else. Some of her best childhood memories were spent at her mom's house with her younger sister. When Jenna moved away from her father to live independently, she and Elise decided that Tuesday would be their designated day to see each other. When Elise was younger Jenna would pick her up and take her out to lunch or dinner, sometimes catching a movie before the younger girl had to go home.

When Elise started high school, though, their mother began to worry about having enough savings to send the young girl to college when the time came. Because of this fear, the older woman began to put pressure on her daughter to achieve top scores, participate in any and all school events she could, and look into community service projects. Jenna had been the one to take Elise to the Gotham Soup Kitchen for the first time. It took only a few hours of volunteer service for Elise to completely fall in love with the place and the work they did. She had a heart for the needy and derived an enjoyment out of helping the less fortunate of Gotham, these traits being some of which Jenna truly admired in her younger sister.

From that day forward Jenna had agreed to take Elise to the soup kitchen every Tuesday in order for her to not only fulfill her community service requirements, but also do what she loved. Jenna helped out as well, the kitchen being something she needed to help stay grounded. Being the heiress she was, a few too many of her father's banquets sometimes would begin to go to her head. She was thankful to have something to keep her from becoming brainwashed like her father and the rest of the wealthy social class.

Turning into the driveway of the high school, Jenna honked as she caught sight of her younger sister sitting outside the buildings. The young girl's eyes darted to her car and she smiled, waving her hand as she dashed over to the vehicle.

"Hey, sis," Elise greeted warmly as she slid into the passenger's seat. Her backpack was tossed carelessly to the back as she buckled herself in.

Jenna stared at her sister for a few moments before asking, "Mom let you dye your hair?"

Elise glanced at her older sister, nodding excitedly. "Yeah, you like it?"

The heiress stared at the blonde tendrils for a few moments before turning to her sister's hopeful gaze. "It's...different." She smiled apologetically.

Elise shrugged. "Well, Derek said he likes it."

Jenna smiled, turning to pull away from the school to head to the soup kitchen. "The boy you like?"

The elder girl caught sight of Elise scrunching up her nose. "No way, he's just a friend." Jenna laughed causing her sister to swat her in the arm.

After awhile of Elise switching radio stations to find one she liked, Jenna finally asked. "So, how's mom?"

Again Elise shrugged. "She's okay." She stayed quiet for a few moments before adding, "The doctor upped her anti-depressants. She's been having nightmares again."

Jenna thought back to all of the times she would have to stay over at her mom's house, cradling her mother in her arms as the woman cried out in her sleep. After her parents divorce her mom had suffered mild night terrors, mostly out of fear of being alone. Yet, when Jenna's stepfather was murdered, her mother's nightmares enhanced so significantly she was hospitalized at one point. The doctor blamed it on fear caused by depression; Jenna knew the real reason, though. Her mind flashed to Russo and her short conversation with him at the police station, shivering at the memory.

"So, how have you been, Jen? Holding up at you dad's parties?" Jenna laughed, knowing Elise wanted to hear all about the banquets.

Unlike Jenna, Elise had never experienced a life of luxury and so the parties the elder girl had to attend fascinated her. "Oh, you have no idea. Dad went all out for his annual charity banquet."

Elise was on the edge of her seat. "Who was there?"

Jenna thought back to the night before, slightly surprised that it hadn't even been a full day since the event had occurred. So much had happened since then. "Well, Mrs. Whitman was there."

"The one who always tries to give you advice about fashion?" Elise giggled.

Jenna glared playfully at her. "Yes, that one. I swear, that woman wouldn't know fashion if it hit her in the face. She wears faux fur and sequins to a gala. Who does that?"

Elise laughed. "Anyone else?"

"Hm," Jenna again was thoughtful. "Brandon was there."

Elise quieted. "Was he angry about the break-up?"

"No," Jenna laughed lightly at the memory. "Actually, he was practically begging for a date with me."

"And?" Jenna was amused by her curious younger sister.

"I said maybe," Jenna lifted a hand from her steering wheel to brush some hair back from her face.

"Which means 'no,'" Elise prompted.

Jenna laughed while nodding her head. As the two girls quieted, Jenna's mind suddenly flashed with the face of another person she had met at the banquet. She opened her mouth to mention the man, but quieted for a moment. Did she really want Elise to know she had met him? She hesitated before deciding she had no reason not to trust her sister.

"I met Bruce Wayne," The car went silent, aside from the soft tunes playing on the radio.

Finally Elise asked, "You met _the_ Bruce Wayne? The Prince of Gotham?"

Jenna nodded. "But don't get too excited, Elise. He isn't all he's cracked up to be."

"What do you mean?" The blonde rose an eyebrow.

Jenna sighed. "Well, first off, he's a billionaire playboy who hardly works for his money and probably doesn't even bat an eye at the depression Gotham is still suffering through, which already knocks him a few marks down in my book. On top of that, when he introduced himself to me, he accused me repeatedly of trying to win his affection so I could use him for his money."

"You can't blame him for that, though," Jenna's eyes shot to her younger sister once the statement was made.

"What are you talking about?" Her gaze flashed back to the road.

"Well, I'm sure he has women throwing themselves at him left and right for his money. A guy like that has to be skeptical of any new woman he meets. I'm sure he's tired of money-hunting models and desperate heiresses always trying to get his attention." Elise brushed a lock of blonde curls from her shoulder.

"That's no excuse to treat me the way he did," Jenna sniffed her nose in disproval, not liking that her younger sister was defending the Wayne heir.

"How did you guys meet?"

Jenna frowned. "Why does that matter?" Elise stayed quiet waiting for her to answer. Finally, the older sister responded, "On a balcony...alone. I went out there for some fresh air and he just happened to be out there as well. It was a complete coincidence."

"Maybe to you, but of course he had to be suspicious. He's the most eligible billionaire bachelor out there and here you are, a single girl of high financial standing who just so happened to run into him alone at your dad's party. It would seem pretty fishy to me too," Elise's explanation caused Jenna to bite her lip.

"But I didn't go out there _looking_ for him. In fact, I didn't even want to meet him at all. All the man cares about is spending money on things that aren't for sale and dating foreign women. He's not someone I want to be associated with." Jenna thought back to her conversation with Bruce, realizing she had said almost the same exact thing to him. Had it hurt his feelings? No, probably only his ego. Nothing a couple dates with foreign supermodels wouldn't fix, she assumed.

"Jenna," The heiress glanced at her sister as she heard Elise sigh. "You think that just because wealth turned your dad into an asshole, everyone else with money is that way too. Maybe if you gave those people a chance, you'd find that they're not all like your dad."

Jenna bit her lip, knowing her sister was right. Over the years she had let herself become increasingly judgmental towards any person with wealth to their name. Instead of being better than the snobs who attended all of the banquets she was forced to, she had instead become one of them. She tried to push the thought out of her mind that she was slowly becoming like her father. She had sworn to herself long ago that she would never let that happen.

Slowly, she replied, "Yeah, maybe so."

Although she regretted the way she had let herself act towards the members of the wealthy social class, Jenna couldn't let herself agree with the idea that Bruce wasn't a stereotypical billionaire bachelor. Even though Elise's explanation of his actions at the banquet did seem believable, Jenna couldn't forget all of the tabloid articles she had read about him. Buying hotels, driving custom made sports cars, dating some of the most powerful and beautiful women in the world, and yet never donating any money to places like the Gotham Soup Kitchen. She wasn't convinced Bruce Wayne was different. It would take more than her sister's assumptions to persuade her that he was more than he appeared.

Pulling into the parking lot outside of the soup kitchen, Jenna smiled as she parked the car. Turning to her sister, she asked, "Ready?"

Elise nodded before exiting the car with Jenna following. Walking up to the front doors, Jenna glanced around the premises. A few homeless men sat huddled in a circle, mumbling amongst themselves; some held warm plates of food in their hands, munching on the sustenance as they talked. Exiting the building was a young woman and her three children. She ushered them out, each holding small packages of food. The family was dressed in worn clothing, the mother looking exhausted. Jenna wondered what could have driven them to such poverty that they had to resort to the soup kitchen just to eat. Did her husband leave her? Was he murdered? Jenna's thoughts filled with memories of her stepfather. Pushing the painful recollections aside, she glanced back at the woman realizing she would never know what had caused the mother into such desperation. All she knew was that she pitied the young woman, wishing she could do more to help people like her.

She had taken on the job at Gotham City Drug Control and Investigation Offices as a way to pursue her passion of helping the less fortunate of Gotham. The G.C.D.C.I was a non-profit organization whose goal was to control and regulate the drug market and investigate crimes linked to drugs. The workforce acted like a special unit police office, focusing on drugs and their dealers.

Although Jenna, nor anyone else at the office, had the authority to arrest criminals, often times they were called on to help put the dealers behind bars. Jenna had found the job appealing not only because it was a way to help clean up the streets of Gotham therefore hopefully reducing crime and boosting wealth for the less fortunate, but also because it was non-profit. The owner of the office used almost all of the funds to help achieve the companies' goal of ridding the city of crime; the rest (which was minimal) was given to the employees.

Jenna was shaken out of her thoughts suddenly as she felt her body collide with another. She yelped in pain as she stumbled backwards, struggling not to fall. Thankfully, a hand reached out and grasped her wrist, balancing her out enough so that she could stand without wobbling. Reaching a hand up to massage her head, Jenna lifted her gaze to the person she had run into.

"I'm so sorry. I..." Jenna trailed off as her gaze met the face of the stranger.

Smiling softly down at her was a man not much older than herself. His light chestnut hair was short and yet shaggy, matching the light stubble that adorned his cheeks and chin. An angular jaw sat upon his face, his brow thick and masculine. Jenna blushed, not able to keep herself from gawking at the man. To say he was attractive was an understatement.

"Are you okay?" His voice was low and melodious, which Jenna found very pleasant.

"Yes, I'm fine." Her eyes caught sight of his hand still holding onto her wrist. "Thank you for catching me." She heard him chuckle as his hand let go of her limb.

"Sorry about running into you..." He trailed off, prompting for a name.

"Jenna," The brunette paused before adding, "Jenna Van Der Pol."

His smile turned into an enchanting lopsided smirk as he continued. "...Jenna. I didn't see you walk in."

"It was my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going." Jenna laughed lightly, reaching up to tuck a few stray locks of hair behind her ear, this action quickly becoming a new nervous habit of hers.

"Are you new around here, Jenna?" The man shifted a box he was holding under one arm, his other hand, which he had caught her with, now hanging limply at his side.

She shook her head. "No, I've been coming here for almost a year with my sister. I've never seen you here, though."

"That's because I usually volunteer at the homeless shelter across town. My cousin mentioned this place to me a few weeks back and I thought I'd come check it out." His free hand reached over to help juggle the box in between his arms.

"Can I help you with that?" Jenna offered.

He smiled politely. "No, I've got it." He paused. "I'm Ethan Grey, by the way."

"Jenna! Hurry up!" Elise's voice broke the stare the two adults had upon one another.

Jenna shook her head slightly, ridding herself of her school-girlish mannerisms. She was a grown woman, after all. "It was nice meeting you, Ethan, but I..."

"Jenna, wait," The young man reached a hand up to scratch at the back of his head in a somewhat nervous fashion. "I know we just met and you probably won't even remember my name by tomorrow, but...would you maybe want to go out sometime?" Ethan's smile seemed to grow all the more charming.

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Author's note: I already have the next chapter finished and can post it anytime. Depends on the feedback I receive.


	5. The Date

Author's Note: Well, I decided to post the next chapter only because I felt like you guys deserved more than just a filler chapter. This one has some action and whatnot and I think you all will enjoy it. Like I said before, this story was written BEFORE the Dark Knight came out and so Ethan's story about his last job may seem familiar to the story of Mr. Reese in DK. I can promise you I didn't copy it. There's a VERY significant reason that coincides with that little part of Ethan's character, which will be revealed in later chapters. Lots of foreshadowing in this chapter, btw. I hope you all catch on. ;)

Disclaimer: Nada. Zip. Zero.

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**The Date**

_Chapter Five_

Jenna had to hold back a laugh as Ethan pulled his car up to the restaurant. _La Grenouille_ – one of the oldest fine dining restaurants in all of Gotham. Jenna had been to the place many times when taken out to dinner by her father, yet she stayed quiet to this fact. She knew Ethan wasn't of high financial standing and so by picking this place he was hoping to impress her.

"Here we are," Ethan said as he stopped his car outside of the restaurant, a young chauffer making his way to the driver's side to take the car away.

Jenna turned to him and softly smiled. "Ethan, are you sure you can afford this place? It's really alright if we go somewhere else," She hoped he wouldn't take her offer the wrong way.

Ethan shook his head, smiling that charming lopsided smile of his in her direction. "Jenna for you, this is nothing." He reached out a hand to softly brush his knuckles against her cheek. Her skin tingled at the touch. "Now, come on or we'll be late for our reservations."

Pulling his hand back Ethan stepped out of the car, his door being held open by the chauffer. Jenna watched as he discreetly held out some money for the young man before turning to stride over to her side of the car. Pulling the door open, he waited for the heiress to step out. Grabbing her clutch, Jenna grinned at Ethan as she exited the vehicle. The door was shut behind her and the young woman faintly heard the car pull away as Ethan placed her arm on his.

Jenna glanced around the premises, hoping no one who would recognize her would be there as they entered through the revolving glass door. The forey was illuminated by a large chandelier, the light from the bulbs bouncing off of the many clear crystals that hung from the centerpiece. Around the lobby stood mingling couples, sipping champagne and gossiping about the latest tabloids. A few times Jenna could have sworn she heard the name 'Batman' mentioned in the conversations. She wondered briefly what the rich and powerful could want with Batman, or why they even cared. He was about creating justice within the scourge of underground Gotham, something she assumed they cared little for.

"Reservations?" Jenna shook her head as she came back to the present.

She glanced at Ethan who was smiling widely at the hostess. "Yes, for seven thirty. It should be under Grey."

The young redhead began searching through her digital clipboard, looking for the name. "Ah," She announced, her smiling telling them she had found their reservation. "Table for two, correct?"

Ethan nodded. The hostess continued to smile as she called to a server. The man casually walked up to them, plucking two menus from the stand the hostess stood behind. "Good evening," He greeted kindly, taking time to shake both Jenna and Ethan's hands.

"My name is Adrian and I'll be your server tonight. If you would, please follow me to your table." He then turned and began leading them to their seating arrangement.

Although Jenna had been to the restaurant many times before, she couldn't help but feel giddy to be at such a nice place, her date making it even more exciting. True, she wished he had chosen somewhere a bit less extravagant for a first date, but she couldn't complain. The way he was willing to spend money on her even though she knew he probably had hardly enough to get by showed her that he was set on impressing her; Ethan wanted her to like him. And like him she did.

As soon as they were seated the two began to talk. Jenna asked him about his work, discovering that he made money through a side job as an appraiser for apartments. His real focus was on volunteer work, though. This made Jenna feel all the more guilty that he was spending such money on her for their date, but he reassured her it was no trouble. It still didn't sit well with her, but she let herself be pacified for the moment. She then asked him about his family and things of that nature, his answers long and yet vague. She figured he didn't want to share too much detail with a girl he had just met and she respected that. She didn't particularly care for people who were open books, Mrs. Whitman being one of them. Sometimes it's best not to know everything about a person's past; everyone has skeletons in their closet.

"So, what about you?" Ethan smirked at Jenna as she bit a ravioli off her fork. She rose an eyebrow.

"What about me?" She figured the twenty questions had turned on her.

"What's your family like?" Jenna glanced away, biting her lip somewhat. She figured he had to have known that her father was Charles Van Der Pol, but she wasn't sure if she was ready to share the details of that relationship. She thought to her mom and the past that came with that side of her family; not exactly one to share on a first date either.

"Well," the heiress paused. "My parents are separated. They have been since I was a child. My mom lives on the west side of Gotham with my younger sister and...my dad and I aren't very close."

She hoped her vague explanation of her family would suffice. By Ethan's warm smile, she could tell it had. She sighed in relief knowing she wasn't ready to go into detail about her past. She was grateful Ethan didn't push her for more.

"So, what do you do for work?" Jenna laughed, realizing he was asking her all of the same questions she asked him.

"Your questions aren't very original, Mr. Grey," She teased, smirking as he began to chuckle embarrassingly.

"Well, I'm not very creative when it comes to twenty questions," He shrugged, his face a tinge of red. Jenna smiled, her hand reaching across the table to grasp his gently.

His eyes darted to their hands before glancing up at her. The two stayed quiet for a few moments, both basking in the revelation of the new feelings that arose in each of them at the contact of their hands. Tingles jolted up Jenna's arm, traveling throughout her body causing her toes to wriggle in mirth. The way this simple contact of appendages made her feel was unlike anything she had felt before. She felt giddy and anxious, like a teenager discovering love for the first time.

Clearing her throat, she realized she had never answered his question. Breaking her gaze away from his she responded, "I work at the Gotham City Drug Control and Investigation Offices."

Ethan rose an eyebrow, his finger beginning to softly stroke the palm of Jenna's hand as he held onto her digits a bit tighter. "Never heard of it," He admitted with a shameful laugh.

Jenna smiled, knowing most people had no knowledge of her office. Being a non-profit organization tended to reduce the popularity of the place. "We're sort of like a private police force, although we can't arrest anyone and we don't have guns."

"So then, what do you guys get to do?" She wondered if he was teasing her or seriously curious about the details of her job.

"We mostly collect information on drug dealers and try to control the drug market. Illegal substances are growing harder and harder to keep track of by the feds, plus drugs aren't their main concern. That's why we try to regulate the drugs, our goal being to rid the underground of crime and drugs thereby hopefully expanding wealth to the honest, hard-working, less fortunate citizens of Gotham."

Ethan smiled. "Sounds noble."

Jenna shrugged. "We do what we can. It's pretty hard to get our hands on information, though, considering we don't have a government license. We mostly have to investigate undercover."

Ethan seemed to grow more interested at the word 'investigate.' "You know, investigating into things that aren't meant to be known could get you into a lot of trouble."

"You speak like someone with experience in exploring things you weren't meant to," Jenna's lips twitched up into a teasing smile.

Ethan glanced away suddenly, the mirth leaving his eyes. He muttered something Jenna couldn't understand causing the heiress to furrow her brow in worry. She hoped she hadn't said something to offend him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up a bad memory from the past or anything..." She trailed off as he glanced up at her, shaking his head.

"No, no," He smiled, though it appeared to be forced. "You're right."

He grew silent for a few moments, searching her face as if trying to deduce if she was trustworthy or not. Finally he spoke. "You see, before doing volunteer work I used to work as an accountant for Wayne Enterprises."

Jenna's breath hitched for a moment at the mention of the Wayne company. She hadn't thought about the billionaire since the car ride with Elise. She had hoped to forget about him, yet it seemed as though he was the subject of most of her conversations recently. She shook her head. "You were?"

Ethan nodded. "Yeah, and I was damn good at my job too. I don't mean to sound high and mighty or anything, but I'm almost positive I was one of the main reasons Wayne Enterprises isn't bankrupt to this day." Jenna laughed lightly, still not completely comfortable with the topic of the conversation.

"So, um, what happened?" Jenna watched as the young man's facial features twisted into a look of contempt. Her eyes darted to their hands as he softly yanked his away, his appendage falling to his lap. She slowly slid hers to clasp her other hand, her fingers twitching in protest at the broken connection with his.

"I started to notice that numbers didn't add up. A large fund of money was just disappearing when it reached accounting. I began asking other employees, but no one else would talk. They were probably too scared of losing their jobs." His jaw grew taut as he recalled the experience. Jenna couldn't help it as her level of curiosity grew.

"When I tried to take it up with Mr. Wayne, I was rejected; pushed aside. They told me to forget about it, but I couldn't. I had planned on taking it up with other members of the board, hoping they would do something about it." He paused. "But before I could contact any of them, I was fired."

Ethan smiled tightly, his eyes reaching Jenna's as he added, "Wayne had me fired for asking too many questions."

Jenna frowned. "That's awful!" She pushed her plate away from her as she leaned forwards to cross her arms over one another on the table.

Ethan nodded, causing Jenna's anger towards the Wayne heir to flare up once again. "Well, that proves it. He's just as I thought he was."

Ethan rose an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Do you know the guy?"

Jenna shrugged. "We met once. He accused me of trying to gain his attention in order to squeeze some money out of him or something."

Ethan seemed interested so the young brunette kept talking. "We only talked for a little while, but from what I could tell he's just like the rest of them – a pompous jerk who thinks he's better than everyone else."

Ethan chuckled lightly. "Sounds about right."

Jenna kept going. "And from your account with him, now I know once and for all that there's nothing more to him. He's as predictable as the tabloids make him out to be. He doesn't care about anyone but himself and his money. He threw you out on the streets just because you asked a few questions."

"Everyone has secrets, Jenna," Ethan prompted.

"The guy fired you and you're defending him?" Jenna seemed appalled.

"I'm just saying, maybe it all happened for a reason. If he hadn't fired me, I wouldn't have been able to see the other side of Gotham – to experience it first hand. I got to see what unemployment tasted like and that gave me the passion to help those less fortunate." His lips grew into a genuine smile as he continued. "And because of that, we met. So, after everything I guess I should be thanking Wayne."

Jenna felt her stomach flutter at his words, yet it didn't dissolve her sour mood completely. "Yes, but that's still no excuse for his actions," She quipped, her arms now shifting to cross themselves over her chest.

Ethan laughed lightly, amused at her attitude towards the billionaire. Reaching for his wine glass, he took one last sip before offering, "What do you say we get out of here?"

Jenna was slightly saddened by the suggestion, yet knew it was late. She had to be getting home soon anyways. Russo's hearing was in two days and she still needed to go over her evidence and prep for the case. She nodded at Ethan, who swiftly called the waiter over. Once the meal was paid for, Jenna quickly grasped her clutch and followed Ethan out of the restaurant.

The car ride to her apartment was filled with a comfortable silence, the radio playing soft melodious tunes which created a mood that made Jenna's lips twitch upwards in pleasure. She felt comfortable around Ethan after their dinner, knowing she could trust him and knowing that he trusted her. Her feelings of ease around him were something she hadn't experienced for many years with a man; all the men in her life had left scars in some way or another. She hoped Ethan wouldn't be the same.

Pulling up to her complex, Ethan turned to her as he put the car in park. Jenna glanced up at him shyly, wondering what kind of goodbye they would share. She had always been the kind of woman who didn't kiss on the first date, yet with Ethan she found that she wouldn't deny him if he tried. She bit her lip.

Reaching across the center divider, the chestnut haired man smiled widely at the heiress as he reached up to trace her cheekbone softly with his smooth hands. Jenna closed her eyes briefly, reveling in the sensations that coursed through her veins as he continued to stroke her cheek.

"I had a good time tonight, Jenna," She smiled at his low, melodic voice.

Opening her eyes, the young woman jumped slightly as she found Ethan's face close to hers. His breath blew softly against her lips as he smiled down at her. She smiled timidly back, her hand finding its way to softly hold his. "Me too, Ethan," Closing her eyes, she leaned forwards in anticipation, squeezing his hand encouragingly.

Her eyes darted open, though, as she felt warm lips meet the side of her cheek. She watched as Ethan backed away, a small smirk playing on his lips. She had to admit that she was a bit disappointed at the fact that he hadn't kissed her. With the way he had leaned forwards, it had seemed certain that he would. She had left herself open, inviting him to do so, yet he hadn't. She forced herself to keep from frowning. Instead, she offered him a tight smile before bidding him goodnight.

Quickly, she walked up to her apartment, shutting the door quietly behind her as she entered the premises. Switching on the lights, Jenna kicked off her heels as she made her way to the room she had deemed her office. Grasping the folders she had left on the top of her desk, she moved away from the room to make her way to the kitchen. She tried going over the information as she began to make herself a cup of coffee, frustrated as she found her mind kept wandering from the print. She couldn't help but wonder why Ethan hadn't kissed her.

She had practically begged him to, leaning into him the way she had. She had left herself wide open, something she had never done after a first date. Had she gotten the wrong idea? Was he not interested in her the way she was in him? She shook her head. It wasn't as if he didn't kiss her; he had. He had kissed her on the cheek. At this fact, Jenna let her mind wander a different path. Perhaps he did like her, he just hadn't wanted to scare her off by moving too quickly on the first date. Yes that had to be it. The heiress nodded her head to herself in reassurance, concluding that Ethan was a gentleman and that was all.

Jenna smiled to herself as these thoughts invaded her mind. Ethan was everything she had been searching for in a man. He was polite, had a passion for the less fortunate like her, was interesting and thoughtful, didn't care about her financial standing and didn't look at money as something of importance, and he was a gentleman. She sighed, knowing she was becoming too involved to quickly. She had just met the man, for God's sake! She couldn't help it, though. He was charming and altogether...perfect.

_"Everyone has secrets, Jenna."_

Ethan's voice rang through her head, though she tried to ignore it. Even if he did have secrets, how bad could they be? She preferred people that kept to themselves over the translucent people she usually had to put up with. Bruce Wayne, he was transparent. Everything he did was typical and overall expected. Ethan, on the other hand, was mysterious and intriguing and Jenna couldn't help but find herself wanting to know more about the man.

She halted her thoughts suddenly, laughing at herself. Why in the world was she comparing Ethan to Bruce Wayne? The two were beyond comparable. She shook her head, feeling utterly silly. There was nothing to compare.

Taking a sip of her coffee, Jenna let herself relax on the couch as she tried again to read over the folders in her hands. Minutes pass by and yet she couldn't help but get distracted. If it wasn't her favorite soap opera playing on the television, it was the refrigerator calling her name or the bathroom inviting her to dawdle in. She was wasting time looking for food when she wasn't hungry or fussing over vanity for no reason whatsoever. She sighed, knowing she wouldn't get any work done at home.

The young heiress glanced at the clock. It was close to midnight. She knew it wasn't exactly safe to go to work at this hour, but she also knew that if she stayed home for another moment she wouldn't get any work done. She desperately needed to prep for the hearing; Gordon was counting on her. Groaning, she quickly went to her room to change into more comfortable clothing before grabbing her purse and the folders she had been scanning over the last few hours.

The drive to her office was short considering how late it was. Entering the building, Jenna couldn't help but feel an eerie presence as she quickly flipped on the lights. The building was old as it was, yet at night it seemed even more ominous than usual. Riding the elevator up to her office, Jenna was relieved to find that her concentration seemed to be back as she sat behind her desk. All thoughts of Ethan had been pushed to the back of her mind for later, the trial being first and foremost at the present. Sipping at the mug of coffee she had brought with her, she quickly scanned over the files making notes here and there. Every once in awhile she would recite something out loud, answering questions she assumed would be asked of her when she was on the stand.

Jenna started as she heard a noise. She lifted her gaze from the folders, a chill suddenly shooting down her spine as she glanced around the empty room. Silence encompassed the area causing the heiress to conclude that she had been imagining the sound. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, the young woman let her eyes fall back on the papers. She jolted as another noise resounded throughout the building. Biting her lip, she fought the urge to look up. She had to be imagining it. Surely it was nothing.

Another noise sounded and Jenna felt her insides drop in fear. Who would come to the office this late? She thought of the possibilities, dread consuming her as one theory became prominent in her mind. What if Russo's men knew about her involvement in the case? Would they come after her? Her teeth began to gnaw on her lip as she felt her body become engulfed in silent panic. What if he had somehow gotten word out to his men to kill her? He knew enough about her to know where she worked and considering he was one of the most notorious mob leaders out there, he could probably have his men watching her at all times without her even noticing.

Jenna stayed immobile as the room grew silent once more. Did she dare lift her gaze? Would she find herself nose to nose with a gun? Her hands began to shake, the folders in her grasp fluttering under the movement. _Don't look up, don't look up._ Try as she might, she couldn't help her curiosity. She had to look up or else be forced to stay frozen like this for the rest of the night. Her ears perked as she heard another sound. Unlike the other noises, this one sounded as if it was in the room – as if whoever it was that was there was standing right next to her. Jenna felt her body become consumed with inaudible shudders as she willed herself to look up.

She gasped as her eyes were met with a familiar masked face. Letting the folders in her hands drop, she gawked at the caped crusader unsure if he was really there or if she was merely imagining it. Finally finding her voice, she asked, "Batman?"

He didn't move, not even to acknowledge he had heard her. Instead he continued staring at her with his dark gaze causing her to shiver involuntarily. Hero or not, his stare alone could cause Jenna to collapse from nerves.

"What are you doing here?" She tried to compose herself as she watched the masked man. He seemed uninterested in her questions, instead circling around her office looking through filing cabinets and folders.

"The hearing is in two days," She jumped slightly at his dark, scratchy voice.

"Y-yes, I know. That's why I'm here," Jenna glanced at the notes and folders scattered across her desk.

Her eyes darted back to Batman, though, as she caught sight of him turn around. He advanced towards her desk and Jenna fought the urge to back away. Suddenly he tossed something towards her. The heiress glanced down at the objects, her eyes widening when she found pictures of Russo and the rest of the Falcone family staring back at her.

"How did you get these?" She reached forwards to grasp at them, riffling through the pile. They included pictures of Russo with Mario Falcone; Jenna recognized the murdered man in some of them as well. She stared at them in awe. "This is more evidence than anything I have. I mean, with these we can definitely get Russo locked up and probably a few of the other Falcone leaders as well."

Batman nodded. "I want you to use them when you're on the stand."

Jenna glanced up at him. "The judge will never let it pass as significant evidence without a source. Do you honestly think she'll believe me if I tell her Batman gave them to me?"

He stared at her in silence for a few moments before answering. "Tell the judge that Gordon took them."

"Does he know about them?" Jenna nodded at the pictures.

"He'll know who their from."

"What if he denies it?" Jenna prompted, needing to know that the pictures were solid.

"He won't." With that Batman turned to leave. It was then that Jenna noticed the window to her office was open, a small breeze disturbing the stillness of the room. She watched as the masked vigilante made his way to the window, her eyes catching the sight of a dark crimson liquid dripping from his fingertips onto the floor

"Wait!" She watched the stranger halt, his back still facing her. She stood slowly from her desk, rounding it to stand closer to him. "You're hurt."

He turned slightly towards her, his dark gaze meeting her own. "It's nothing."

Jenna shook her head, determined to not let him leave without her help. "You helped me, now let me help you."

He turned away from her, moving towards the window once more. "Please," She reached forwards to grab at his unharmed hand, holding him still. "You don't honestly think you can fight Gotham's underground with an injured arm, do you?"

He stayed still again, Jenna's hands still holding onto his arm as if afraid he would leave if she let go. Finally he turned towards her. He didn't say anything, but Jenna took his actions as a surrender to her request. Smiling eagerly, Jenna quickly let go of his arm to head towards the bathroom for supplies.

"Wait here," She called out as she left the office, hoping he wouldn't take her absence as a chance for escape.

Rushing to the bathroom, Jenna quickly began rifling through the emergency kits located in the cabinets above the sink. Her mind was racing as she gathered the essentials, still not completely sure if this was all happening or if she had fallen asleep on her desk and was dreaming up the whole thing. She thought back to the pictures Batman had given her. She had been worried that she wouldn't have good, solid evidence for the hearing, yet now it seemed as though she would have more than enough. A picture was worth a thousand words, after all. She couldn't believe her luck.

At the moment, though, the hearing wasn't the first thought on her mind. Still searching through the cabinets, Jenna couldn't help but wonder how Batman knew where her office was. Had he been following her? She shuddered slightly at the thought of him watching her while she went on with her life unaware of his presence. No, he must have just asked Gordon. That would have been the easy option. The Commissioner knew where she was from and where her office was located and from what Jenna has observed, the two men were pretty close allies. Gordon would easily have given out information on her to Batman if asked of him. Another thought plagued Jenna's mind, though; how did Batman know she was at the office at this hour?

Shaking her head, Jenna grabbed the last of her supplies before rushing back to her office. Surprisingly, she found Batman standing in the exact spot she had left him in. She had half expected him to leave while he had the chance. No matter, she quickly set to work laying out the medical supplies she had snatched from the bathroom.

Once they were deposited, she glanced up at the masked stranger. His shadowy gaze was on her, watching her as she stepped closer to him. Biting her lip, she reached for his wounded arm. He didn't fight her as she grasped his wrist, lifting the appendage up for a closer look. Her eyes darted down to the gloved hand, catching sight of a large gash running up the side of his forearm. It looked as though it was pretty fresh, blood still oozing from the nasty lesion. Carefully she picked at the edges of the ripped glove to get a closer look. She felt the man's arm twitch when her finger brushed slightly against the edge of the wound.

Jenna glanced up at him. "I'm going to have to remove your glove."

A nod was his only response.

Gently Jenna grasped his wrist with one hand to support his arm. With the other she slowly began to pluck the glove off each of his fingers. Once it was loosened up enough, she used the material of the fingers to slide the rest of the glove off of his arm. She dropped it onto her desk, careful to not let it stain any of her folders with the blood that covered the material. Turning back to his arm, her eyes were met with tan flesh covering a massive forearm. She couldn't help herself as she slowly let her hand graze across the top of the skin. Was she amazed to find a man underneath the costume? Batman had made himself out to be more than a man, taking on any and all criminals. Even the baddest of the bad were terrified of him.

Her fingers froze as she felt her wrist grabbed by a strong hand. She glanced at the gloved appendage before rising to meet Batman's dark gaze. He stared at her intently. She muttered out a sorry, his good hand letting go of her wrist so that she could continue to fix him up. Letting her gaze fall back on the wound, Jenna turned his wrist this way and that to examine exactly how much damage had been done. The cut was long, yet not deep enough to need stitches. Jenna was thankful for that, unsure if she would have been able to complete the task of stitching him up. The blood alone was already making her light-headed.

"It doesn't look too bad," She commented as she grabbed for a strip of gauze. Dipping it in some anti-bacterial ointment, she grasped his arm once more to hold it closer to the light.

Carefully she began dabbing at the edges of the wound, cleaning up the excess blood that had left trails down his arm. Once that was cleaned up, she grasped another sterile gauze, this time applying the ointment directly on the wound. His arm twitched again, yet he showed no sign of pain. She wondered briefly if he had practiced not showing pain because it was a sign of weakness, or if he merely didn't feel it all.

Discarding the used gauze she then grabbed for the bandages, her other hand still holding onto his wrist as a support. As she turned back towards his arm, she lifted it up again to start wrapping the dressing around it. The silence between them was starting to make her skin crawl and so she decided to break it by asking flat out, "Who are you?"

She glanced up at his gaze, blushing when she saw him staring at her once more. She figured he wouldn't answer. Why would he? He obviously wore the mask for a reason – to hide his true identity. She felt silly for being so blunt, her gaze quickly lowering back to his arm as she continued bandaging it.

Jenna started as he answered, "Someone like you." She was about to ask him what he meant, but quieted as he continued. "Someone who is willing to take a stand against the criminals of this city and help make Gotham the city it was intended to be."

"You sound like a modern-day Robin Hood," Jenna muttered with a teasing smile. He stayed quiet causing her amused smirk to falter.

"You know, not everyone likes what you're doing. Half the police force would arrest you on sight if they had the chance." She waited for his response.

"And what about you? What's your opinion of me?" She lifted her gaze to his, searching his masked façade. What did she think of Batman? He stood for everything she believed in – helping the police, bringing justice onto the criminals, restoring peace and wealth to Gotham.

She stayed quiet for a few moments longer finishing with the bandage. Once it was on securely, she grasped the glove she had left on her desk and slowly slipped it back onto his limb. Turning to put down the unused bandage, she finally responded, "I respect what you do," She hesitated for a moment before adding, "And I wish I could do more to help like you do."

She turned back towards where he was, her eyes widening as she found an empty room staring back at her. Her gaze darted to the window as she felt another breeze sweep past her. Striding over to the open glass, she leaned her head out to glance down the dark street. Everything was still and quiet. She shook her head as she leaned back inside, closing the window. Tonight had to have been one of the most eventful nights she had ever experienced.

* * *

Author's Note: I scratch your back you scratch mine...


	6. The Laboratory

Author's Note: Hey guys! Sorry for the stall in updates. I've had this one typed up forever, I just didn't like the ending at all. Still don't. But, I figured you guys have been patient enough with me so you deserve a new chapter! Well, enjoy and don't forget to leave a review. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Batman? Me? Noooooo. Never...sadly.

* * *

**The Laboratory**

_Chapter Six_

Jenna awoke with a start as she heard her cell phone begin to ring. Groaning, she blinked rapidly in hopes of waking herself up. Catching sight of the loud contraption, she quickly reached for the phone before flipping it open.

"Hello?" Her voice was croaky and hoarse as she answered the call. As her eyes adjusted, she suppressed the urge to groan again as she found herself seated at the desk in her work office. Had she fallen asleep while working last night? Her mind briefly flittered to the date with Ethan and the meeting with the Batman...

"Jenna, are you just now waking up?" Her father's voice sounded scornful as it flooded into her ear. She winced, silently cursing at herself for not looking at the caller ID before picking up the phone. She glanced at the time, surprised to find that it was already seven in the morning. Luckily for her, the office didn't open until eight and so she figured she was still the only presence occupying the building.

"It was a long night, Dad," She sighed as she pushed herself away from the desk, leaning back in her seat to stretch some. She bit the inside of her cheek as she felt a sharp pain shoot through her neck, her hand instantly reaching up to massage the sore area.

"Exactly what kind of 'long night' was it?" Charles sounded suspicious, which didn't surprise Jenna.

A few times while back in her adolescence, the heiress would sneak out to parties or spend the night clubbing with friends. It was more for the thrill of pissing off her dad than anything else. The way his jaw would clench, his plump face turning a deep purple, and the vein that always throbbed, threatening to explode on his forehead always gave her immense pleasure. Jenna loved reassuring him that she wasn't the prim and proper young lady he had desperately tried to force her to be. It gave her satisfaction in having him know that she wasn't one of his little pawns he could toy with, using her to his advantage whenever necessary.

She rolled her eyes at his question, smothering the urge to shoot back a sarcastic reply. Instead she answered, "I was up all night working. I have to testify in open court the day after tomorrow."

"Ah," He sounded pacified. The way he had acted skeptical towards her, though, had peeved her quite a bit. Did he think her still a child? She glared at nothing in particular, already fighting the urge to hang up on him.

"So, what's the reason for calling?" She began to rearrange the papers on her desk, most of which being scattered about aimlessly. She figured she must have unconsciously moved them about while sleeping.

"Well," Jenna didn't like the excited note her father's voice suddenly took on. "I just received word this morning that Bruce Wayne is hosting a hotel opening down by the bay tonight and we've been invited to go."

Jenna's eyes jerked open wider at the mention of Bruce Wayne. He had invited her? After everything that happened she was sure she'd never see the man again. Her mind thought back to his last comment before leaving on the balcony at her father's banquet.

"_I hope to change your opinion of me in the future."_

Was this possibly his attempt to change her opinion of him – inviting her father and herself to a hotel opening? She muffled a scoff. If that was his way of showing himself to be more than the tabloids made him out to be, he was sadly mistaken. Jenna was brought of her musings when she heard her father's voice resound through the receiver.

"I'd like you to wear that dress I bought you for your last birthday, dear. It really brings out your eyes." He seemed to be up to something.

"I'm not going." Jenna rolled her eyes a second time as she heard him protest, a scolding starting up on his end. "Dad listen, I just have a lot of things I need to do to prepare myself for the hearing. I really don't have time to go."

"Remember our deal, Jenna," Playing the guilt card wasn't going to work so easily on her this time.

"Our deal was that I attend any and all of _your_ events, not Bruce Wayne's," She crossed her arms over her chest, determined to get her way for once. She was an independent adult after all and therefore should be able to choose what she would do with the rest of her night.

Charles paused as if all out of cards to play. Taking one last stab at persuading her, he offered quickly, "Well, what if I allow you to bring a guest?"

Jenna rose an eyebrow finding that she wasn't completely opposed to the idea. Her mind flashed with an image of Ethan, a small smile playing on her lips. "And it can be anyone of my choosing?"

Her father grudgingly agreed. "But none of your work friends. I don't want anyone who will talk politics. The last thing I needs is for your overly opinionated co-workers to cause a scene at one of the biggest events of the season..."

"Alright, then I'll just see you tonight," Jenna hoped this would interrupt his scorning of her friends – not that she had many at work, at least none she'd bring to a party full of Gotham's finest snobs and aristocrats.

"I'll have my driver pick you up at eight."

Jenna went to hang up the phone when she heard his voice again. Sighing she asked, "What?"

"If you could please drop by the lab and write Hugo his check I would really appreciate it, dear. I've just been so busy with work, I can't afford to drive downtown to give him his salary today." Jenna wondered what he could be so busy with – throwing parties or bossing people around, perhaps?

"Yeah okay, Dad," She checked her watch wondering if she had time to run home and change before the office opened.

"I'm counting on you, Jenna. I'll let Hugo know you're coming by." With that final word the line went dead on his side. Jenna quickly shut her phone, sighing as she threw it down on the desk.

Her mind flittered back to her option of running home to freshen up. She bit her lip as she again glanced at the time – seven fifteen. It would take her at least twenty minutes to get home, not to mention the twenty minutes she knew it would take to get ready, and then another twenty minutes to drive all the way back. She huffed, knowing she would be late if she left now. Instead she decided to start ahead of the game knowing that she would have to leave a bit early to drop by the lab before going home to get ready for the hotel opening anyways.

She smiled suddenly as thoughts of the laboratory filled her mind. Her father had bought the science lab when she was very little, hiring Gotham University's top science professor, Doctor Thomas Hugo Strange, to work as his crown scientist. Charles used the lab as a place to invent new products to auction off to various wealthy companies. It was more a side investment than anything – a way for Charles to make some extra money on top of his other enterprises. The Van Der Pol billionaire hardly visited the place, not caring for the sciences himself. Jenna, on the other hand, couldn't get enough of the laboratory.

Any chance she got she was down there letting Hugo show her his new inventions and experiments. She loved playing with the products and he loved showing off his work to her. Throughout the years they developed a relationship that Jenna considered to be as close to a 'father-daughter relationship' as anything. Hugo was the first person she would come to talk to when she was upset about something. In a way, he was the only person who had kept her grounded as she grew up. With her mother constantly having mental breakdowns after the divorce of her parents and then later after the murder of her second husband and her father only caring about his money, Jenna had no one else to turn to but Hugo. He had always been more than welcome to hear about her current predicaments, always offering advice and an open ear to her problems.

Being swamped with work and her father's social events, Jenna had found it hard to make time to visit her beloved scientist recently and so she was grateful that she finally had a legitimate excuse to leave work early and go see him. She knew he would be able to offer her guidance on the hearing and who was involved in it.

Skimming through the rest of the Falcone files she had on site, Jenna continued scribbling down notes for the case. The rest of the day was spent going over her notes, practicing what she would say, and trying to build up courage for the upcoming hearing. She couldn't help the cold shivers that ran through her body whenever her mind would think of Russo. She tried to tell herself that she was being silly, that there was nothing he could do to her while they were in court. Yet, that was what she feared the most: being in court with him. He knew too much about her...about her family. It was like Ethan had told her the night before: everyone has secrets. Jenna wasn't sure if she was ready to face hers in open court.

Finally, after hours of research, note-taking, and practicing, Jenna decided to call it a day. Sighing as she filed all of her material away, the young heiress reached a hand up to brush a few stray locks of chocolate brown hair behind her ear. Checking the time to make sure she wasn't leaving too late, Jenna quickly grabbed her purse and made for the exit.

After switching the lights off in her office, the brunette quickly turned to Pam. "Could you let Mr. Larson know I had to leave early on account of family business?"

Pam rose an uninterested gaze in her direction before nodding briskly. Her eyes were stained a bright red, the edges of them puffy and swollen. A few used tissues were scattered around her desk, her trashcan already full with more of them. Jenna could only assume that her business tycoon boyfriend had dumped her for his next new plaything. She felt a pang of sympathy for the young receptionist, knowing Pam had no experience with the upper class like she did.

Offering a small smile, Jenna thanked the woman before making her way to the elevator. After getting off of the machine she quickly flipped out her phone as she walked towards her car. Her father had agreed to letting her bring a guest, her fingers already dialing the number of the person whose named had flashed through her head first. Ethan had exchanged numbers with her the day he had asked her on a date, which she was thankful for. His boldness fascinated her and she had come to find that it was a quality she was happy he possessed.

"Hello?" His deep voice filled her ear causing Jenna to smile. It had felt like a lifetime since she had last talked to him, even though their date had only been the night before.

"Ethan, hi," She greeted as she unlocked her car and slide inside.

"Jenna, I thought the rule after a first date was that the man had to call the woman first..." He seemed amused that she was calling him only hours after they had last seen each other.

"Yes well, I've never really been fond of that rule anyways," Jenna laughed lightly.

"So, why the call? Did you need something?" Even though Ethan sounded pleased to have Jenna calling him so soon, his tone hid what seemed to be slight urgency to get off the phone.

"Actually, yes I do." She paused before asking, "I know this is short notice, but...my father is forcing me to go to a hotel opening that Bruce Wayne invited us to tonight and I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me?"

The line went silent for a few moments before Jenna picked up the sound of Ethan's distinct chuckling. "What's so funny?" Her brow furrowed and she felt her lips slide downwards into a frown. Was he laughing at her?

"It's just," He paused as he tried to stifle more amused laughter. "I thought you hated Wayne."

Jenna huffed, knowing she would have to explain herself. "I do, but like I said, my father is forcing me to go. That's why I want you to come with me; I need someone there who will keep me from strangling those pompous airheads."

Ethan laughed again causing Jenna to smile. Finally his amusement subsided enough for him to answer. "Jenna, I'd love to go, but I have a few appraisals I have to do tonight. I would cancel them, but money's really tight right now and I could use the cash."

Jenna felt her mood drop in disappointment. "Oh." She briefly hoped he wasn't struggling financially because of their extravagant date.

"I'm really sorry," His voice was laced with an apologetic tone. "I swear I'll make it up to you."

"No, no, Ethan it's okay." Jenna tried to sound unaffected, her mouth forming a weak smile. "I understand completely. I'm sorry for bothering you."

He let out a small chuckle. "Jenna, you could _never_ bother me."

Jenna felt her mood lighten a tad at his comment. The two stayed on the phone a bit longer before hanging up. Once she was on the road to the lab, Jenna let her mind think of a second option for her guest to the event that night. She smiled as she thought of Elise, knowing her sister wouldn't have any plans that would interfere. As she continued her drive, she quickly called the younger girl. Elise was more than thrilled to be invited, her excitement being shown through many high-pitched squeals and giggles. Jenna couldn't help but share in her sister's excitement, even though it was a hotel opening that held the promise of being overrun with snobs and the rest of the wealthy social class. The fact that she was giving her younger sister the opportunity to be able to experience something she would probably never have another chance in her life to be a part of delighted Jenna immensely.

"I'll come pick you up after I drop by the lab," Jenna told her sister over the phone. She figured Elise would know that she was talking about the lab she used to tell her younger sister about whenever she would stay at her mother's house.

"Okay, see you then, sis," And with that the two hung up.

Jenna still couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that Ethan wouldn't be her date for the night, but she was also looking forwards to spending the night with her younger sister. She figured Elise would be more than enough company to keep her from strangling any of the other guests or herself, for that matter.

The heiress began to push these thoughts aside as she pulled into the parking lot of the laboratory. Her face lit up as she glanced out at the brick building, the place sending fond memories flashing through her mind. Stepping out of the vehicle, Jenna locked the car before heading towards the building. The door was locked as usual, causing her to press the intercom button. Hugo had insisted on the security system when he and Charles had bought the place. To this day there hadn't been one break in at the lab. Jenna figured, though, that it was because criminals were more interested in money and drugs than science experiments.

"Who is it?" Jenna grinned as she heard the family scratchy voice of her beloved scientist resound over the intercom.

"It's Jenna," The line buzzed before going quiet

"Jenna who?" The heiress laughed lightly, sensing the teasing in Hugo's voice.

"Jenna Van Der Pol," She waited patiently for him to respond.

"Oh, you mean the girl who doesn't have time to visit a lowly old scientist like me anymore?" Hugo's voice was filled with silent laughter.

"Hugo, just let me in." Jenna glanced up at the red light above the intercom, knowing he was watching her through the camera. She pressed her face closer to it, crossing her arms over her chest in amusement.

"Alright, alright don't get your panties in a twist," Jenna laughed as a buzzer resounded, signaling the door being unlocked.

"Thank you!" She called into the speaker before pushing past the unlocked door.

Her eyes scanned the lobby, the room being dimly lit and unoccupied. The lab never had any guests, other than herself and her father. It was more of a private office for Hugo to work in than anything else. At one point Charles had hired a whole staff of scientists to work in the lab, but eventually they all either got fired for being involved in money laundering and other such illegal practices or they just moved on to bigger and better things. Charles didn't pay his employees very much for all of the hard work they put in for him.

Jenna poked her head through the first door down the dark hall, smiling when she caught sight of Hugo's form hunched over a metal table. His face was covered in a welding mask, his hand holding a lit torch. Jenna watched as he lowered it to whatever he was working on at the table, unaware of her presence. Once he was finished with the machine, the heiress cleared her throat loud enough so that he would be able to hear her. She watched as he straightened up at the sound of her voice, his hands reaching up to remove the mask from his face.

Turning around, Hugo's gaze landed on her as she began to stride towards him. Jenna smiled widely, her eyes scanning over his familiar features as she made her way closer where he stood. Nothing had changed since the last time she had seen him. Upon his face he still wore a pair of circular glasses that he constantly had to push up the bridge of his nose to keep them from falling down. Under his white lab coat was his usual suit and tie, a small ID card clipped to his suit pocket. As Jenna neared she quickly threw her arms around the man, basking in the familiar feeling of his fatherly arms encircling her form.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited recently. You know how it gets with work and my dad with all of his social events..." She trailed off as the older man began to chuckle.

"You don't need to apologize, Jenna." He leaned back to smile down at her before letting her go to move back around to his experiment table.

"So, is it 'Doctor Strange' now or can I still call you Hugo?" Jenna smirked at the scientist teasingly, knowing that he had just received his third doctorate in the scientific field. The man was a genius; there was no doubt about that.

"You didn't stop calling me Hugo after the first two doctorates, why should the third be any different?" He chuckled as he played along with her teasing. "But if you'd like to call me Doctor Strange, I wouldn't mind."

Jenna laughed. "Hey, don't go getting a big head now or anything."

He smiled warmly at her making the young woman realize how much she had missed the elder man's company. It truly had been awhile since she had last seen him and the more time she was spending with him now, the more she was starting to regret not visiting him more often. He was one of the brighter aspects of her childhood and she didn't want to lose that because of her job or her dad's silly social gatherings.

"So, how have you been Jenna?" Hugo prompted, his eyes staring intently on the machine he was working on. His hands reached forwards to play with a few screws and bolts here and there, adjusting them ever so slightly.

Jenna sighed, knowing the scientist would be more than willing to hear the load of things the young heiress wanted to share with him. He always had been a good listener. "I'm holding up," She shrugged.

"I hear you're attending the hotel opening tonight," His gaze lifted to her for a moment under his clear spectacles before lowering back to his gizmo once more.

"How did you know?" She rose an eyebrow at the man.

"Your father called just before you came by and invited me to come." Jenna wasn't surprised. Charles loved showing off his award-winning, doctorate-holding scientist to the other guests at important social events. "He also said that you're bringing a guest to this one." It was Hugo's turn to glance at her curiously.

Jenna nodded.

"Huh," Hugo seemed thoughtful. "I was slightly surprised, considering Bruce Wayne is the host of the event. I thought for sure Charles would be eager to introduce the two of you."

"Oh, I've already been introduced to Mr. Wayne. Let's just say, he's not exactly my type," Jenna quipped.

"Ah," Hugo chuckled knowingly. "Too rich for you?"

Jenna smirked. "And too much of an ego. The man could fill an entire room with how inflated it is."

"So then, who is the young Van Der Pol heiress bringing?" Hugo flinched as a small spark went off sending tingling sensations through his hand. He pulled his damaged digits away to massage with his good hand, his gaze leaving the machine to glance at Jenna.

"I invited my younger sister," Hugo rose an eyebrow and she quickly added, "On my mom's side." She wondered briefly if she should tell the scientist about Ethan, but decided against it. It wasn't as if the two were official yet or anything. For all Jenna knew, Ethan still considered her just a friend.

"She doesn't hate the scourge of the wealthy upper class like you?" Hugo asked jokingly, his hands parting to reach up and scratch at his thick beard.

Jenna laughed, shaking her head. "No, she loves hearing about all of the banquets and social events I have to attend. I figured she deserved to experience one firsthand."

A small silence encompassed the two before Jenna offered, " Any new experiments?"

Hugo grinned, nodding eagerly. "Would you like me to show you one?"

"Of course," Jenna smiled back, following the scientist as he made his way out of the room.

The two descended down the dimly lit hall, entering a room a few doors down from the first one. Jenna watched as Hugo flipped on the lights, the room becoming illuminated in fluorescent glow. She grinned as she caught sight of various machines and experiments occupying the tops of the tables or lining the walls of the room. Any other person would have wondered how Hugo managed to create so many things, the other rooms of the lab being filled with numerous experiments as well. Jenna knew, though, that this was his life. Hugo devoted his time to the lab, inventing new gadgets and gizmos being his greatest passion.

The pair strolled over to a far corner of the room to where an object covered with a tarp was placed. Hugo reached over it to remove the tarp revealing a large metallic machine. It was fairly simple compared to some of his other ones. A circular opening was located on the side, yet that seemed to be the only thing on the machine; the rest of it was smooth chrome.

"What is it?" Jenna questioned, her eyes darting from the machine to Hugo.

He smiled down at it with pride before lifting his gaze to meet the heiress'. "Your father had me build it for the army."

He rounded it, reaching behind it for something. "I haven't named it yet, but I can tell you what it does."

Jenna rose an eyebrow as he appeared from behind the machine with a pair of what looked to be masks in his hand. He handed her one, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"When turned on it lets out a low frequency sound wave to measure the amount of objects in a room. After using the measurements to determine how much gas is needed, the machine then releases a highly potent anesthetic. If the gas isn't enough to render the enemy in the premises unconscious, it's extremely opaque texture then comes in handy as a means for escape without being seen." Hugo began putting on his mask. "It's meant for the army to use in low profile getaways or rescue missions."

"Does it work?" Jenna eyed the machine.

She couldn't see Hugo's mouth, but she could tell by the way the skin at the sides of his eyes wrinkled that he was smiling. "You might want to put your mask on, Jenna."

The young woman didn't argue. Quickly she donned the mask, her breathing becoming relaxed as she felt oxygen regulating within the facial protection. Her emerald eyes watched as Hugo grabbed what appeared to a remote from the table next to the machine. Flipping the glass case that covered it open, his finger flicked the small switch on. The chrome contraption suddenly lit up, releasing a high whistle. Jenna covered her ears, the noise almost unbearable. As quickly as it had started, the noise suddenly stopped. Then out of the circular opening started to spew dense fog.

Jenna glanced at Hugo as the scientist watched the machine with satisfaction. She rose an eyebrow. "So basically, it's just an advanced fog machine?"

Hugo's eyes darted to hers, his brow furrowing behind his glasses' frame. "No, it's much more than that." When Jenna's expression remained unconvinced, he added, "You'll see."

Jenna watched as the smoke began to slowly spread throughout the room, filling every crevice with translucent mist. She reached a hand out to feel at the vapor, surprised to find it fairly warm. Small droplets of the gas began to cling to her skin as she moved her hand through the fog. She lifted her gaze to say something, her eyes widening when she found that she could no longer see Hugo. Where he had once stood next to her was now just thick murkiness. Shadows seemed to form in the blanket of fog that encompassed the room, making the area feel dark and tight. Jenna felt as she was suffocating, her entire being completely surround by the intense mist.

"Hugo!" Her voice sounded strangled as she called out. A slight panic was beginning to set into her psyche as her eyes darted around searching for the scientist.

There was silence still as the machine continued to transmit fog. Jenna bravely took a step forwards, reaching a hand up to guide her. Her breathing was becoming labored as she dared a few more steps into the mist. She winced as her toe came in contact with something hard. She glanced down to see what it had been that she had kicked and was met with only the sight of more fog. She bit her lip.

"Hugo, where are you?" She reached her hand out further as if grasping out for the man.

"I'm here," She heard him call, yet he sounded far off.

"Where?" Jenna's ears perked as she heard a clicking noise, the machine suddenly growing silent.

She waited patiently, her eyes noticing traces of objects. As a few more minutes passed she realized that the fog was dissipating, and rather quickly at that. Her eyes darted around the room as it came into full focus. Still she couldn't find Hugo. She started as a finger tapped her shoulder. Turning around, her eyes widened as she found the elder scientist grinning behind her.

"How...how did you get behind me?" She stared up at him in awe.

"I told you that the machine is meant for soldiers to get away without being seen. It worked, didn't it?" He winked teasingly at her.

"But...I couldn't see anything in that fog. How did you manage to move around the room without running into things?" She was reminded of her failed attempt at moving in the mist when a small stinging sensation emanated from her stubbed toe.

"Lots of practice," He responded, striding back over to the machine.

Jenna removed her mask, watching as Hugo closed the glass container around the remote once more before setting it back down on the table where he had gotten it from. He then reached back behind the machine to pull the tarp over it again, smiling in approval as he straightened up to face her. The young heiress glanced at the machine one last time before he covered it, her eyes suddenly drawn to a dark invention shrouded in shadow at the back of the room. She squinted her eyes, unable to see what exactly it was.

She pointed at the corner. "Hugo, what's that?"

"Hm?" He glanced at where she was pointing, his eyes meeting with the dark contraption. "Oh, that's nothing. Just a personal project I've been working on for awhile." He glanced back at Jenna before moving to leave the room. The young woman decided not to press the matter, knowing she would probably get to see the strange invention in action when he was finished with it.

As they made their way back to the first room, Hugo suddenly struck up a new subject. "So, your father tells me you're testifying in court in a few days."

Jenna's eyes shot to the scientist and she nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm supposed to give a testimony on the evidence that my office has collected on the defendant."

Hugo could sense the apprehension in her voice. "You seem uneasy about it."

Jenna let her gaze fall, the molars in her mouth slowly gnawing at the insides of her cheeks. "The defendant is Serjio Russo."

Hugo's eyes widened some, surprised at the news. "And you're afraid to testify against him because of your connection to him." It was more of a statement than a question.

Jenna nodded. "What if he brings it up?"

"Jenna, what does he have against you that could possibly get you in trouble with the system?" The scientist halted his steps, turning to place a hand on Jenna's shoulder. "You were a child back then. You didn't know what was going on between your stepfather and him."

"I knew enough." She let her gaze lift to meet his. "He could use that against me."

"How do you know he'll even remember you?" Jenna felt the man's grip tighten some upon her shoulder.

"He knows. I was there when he was arrested. He called me by my name and mentioned my stepfather's murder." She glanced away. "What if he says something in court?"

The elder man sighed as he released his hold on her shoulder. Placing his hand beneath her chin, he slowly lifted Jenna's gaze to meet his own. His eyes were sympathetic and kind, full of fatherly affection and encouragement. "You have to decide which is more important, Jenna, your freedom or the freedom of Gotham."

Her brow creased. "What do you mean?"

"Testifying against Russo could be the chance you get at putting him behind bars for all of the crimes he's committed. By doing so, you'd give the police the opportunity to rid the streets of the other major drug dealers thereby growing that much closer to what you work so hard to accomplish at that little office of yours. You just have to make a decision of whether Gotham is worth facing your past and risking your freedom in the process." His hand moved to caress her check.

Jenna rose her hand to cover his as his warm palm held her face. She closed her eyes momentarily, smiling weakly. "You make it sound as if the fate of Gotham rests on my shoulders."

He chuckled. "Maybe not the fate of Gotham, Jenna, but you are going to have to play a part in the redemption of the city. Batman can't bring justice to the streets of Gotham alone."

Her eyes opened at the mention of Batman, her mind recalling the previous night. She nodded, knowing Hugo was right as always. She was glad to have someone to talk to about the upcoming case and her gnawing fears of what might happen if she testified. Relief washed through her as the scientist pulled her into a comforting hug. She wrapped her arms around his midsection tightly, breathing in his scent.

After a few moments, Jenna pulled away. She smiled up at Hugo who reached up to push a few strands away from her face affectionately. "It's late," He commented. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for tonight?"

Jenna's eyes widened at the mention of the hotel opening. She had completely forgotten about the event. Nodding, she quickly dug through her purse to grab what she had come to deliver. Before leaving her office she had quickly scribbled out Hugo's check before depositing it into the confines of her purse. Grasping the wrinkled paper in her hand, the heiress yanked it out of the bag before handing it to the scientist with a smile. He thanked her before tucking the check away in his coat pocket.

Turning to leave, she quickly called out, "I'll see you later tonight, Hugo."

She could feel him smiling as he called back, "You can count on it, kiddo."

She grinned as she exited the building, feeling less dread for the upcoming night. Scurrying to her car she quickly buckled herself in before pulling out of the parking lot to begin her drive home. Glancing at the time Jenna began to pick up her speed as she zoomed down the streets. She had a party to attend after all.

* * *

Author's Note: Huuuuugo Straaaaaange. Hm hm hm. Well, I hope I've kept the characters in canon, yet original at the same time...if that makes sense. Hah. Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave me some feedback.


	7. The Garden

Author's note: Hey guys! So sorry I left this story for so long. I swear I have been working on it since the last chapter! Now that I'm done with my courses for the school year I'll have more free time to update. This chapter is a bit less than what I had expected it to be...but at least I wrote it haha. Sorry if you don't want another snobby banquet scene, but this part is definitely necessary for the rest of the story. I think you'll see why. ;)

Anyways, read, enjoy, and review please! Also, let me know if there are any spelling errors or whatnot. I wrote this in a matter of hours tonight and didn't really check to see if there were any errors. Constructive criticism is welcome.

And did anyone else see that Catwoman is going to be in the next Batman movie? I'm not sure I'm too happy about that...What do you guys think? Do you like the idea of Catwoman or do you hate it?

Disclaimer: You know the drill. Me and Batman? Nope.

* * *

**The Garden**

_Chapter Seven_

Jenna sighed as the taxi pulled up to the paparazzi-swamped hotel opening. Her eyes caught sight of a few of the guests stopping to smile for the cameras, their hands casually lifting to wave at the photographers. The lights of the flashes glimmered off of their jewels, the reflections causing small dots to appear in Jenna's vision. She felt her insides suddenly swarm with frantic butterflies; she placed a hand daintily against her abdomen. She considered abandoning the event for a moment.

"You okay, Jen?"

The heiress turned towards her younger sister. Elise frowned at her worriedly. The young girl looked radiant in her navy blue gown, small pearls adorning her neck and ears. Her dark eyes sparkled with anxiousness as she reached up to brush a few stray strands of hair from her face. Jenna smiled tightly knowing she couldn't take this opportunity away from her sister.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She let go of her stomach to pat Elise's hand in reassurance.

"Are you sure? Because we can go if this is too much for you to handle. I know how you hate these things," She motioned towards the hotel.

Jenna shook her head. "Elise, I'm fine. If I can stand my father's balls and banquets then I can handle this." Taking a few deep breaths, she reached for the door. "Ready?"

Elise nodded eagerly, her frown being replaced with an excited grin. Biting her lip, the heiress turned from her sister as her door was opened. She lifted her gaze to the chauffeur whose gloved hand held the door open for her. She smiled at tightly at him, her eyes disdainfully taking in his plastered smile. _Bastard. Bastards the lot of them! _She turned from the young man as she exited the vehicle, her sister gracefully sweeping to her side. She linked arms with Jenna, an overjoyed grin painted across her ruby red lips. Jenna smiled fondly at her sister taking pleasure in the fact that she could fulfill the younger girl's silly fantasy.

As the two ladies made their way towards the entrance of the hotel Jenna spotted the cameramen scooting their direction. She inwardly cringed knowing that there was no way should would be able to dash away from them in her floor length gown. Quickly she whispered, "Watch out. Paparazzi two o' clock."

Jenna caught sight of her sister's eyes widening. "Paparazzi? Where?" The elder couldn't help but roll her eyes at the eagerness in Elise's voice. She might be excited now, but just wait until the men surround her with their blinding lights and deafening shouts. It's suffocating to say the least.

The cameramen reached them just as they were about to ascend the steps to the doorway of the building. "Ms. Van der Pol, a picture please!"

Jenna turned slightly to them, her lips pursed into an annoyingly tight smile. The men eagerly took advantage of her attention, swarming around the two ladies. The mirage of lights and flashing began causing Jenna's vision to be rendered useless as photo after photo were taken of her. She lifted a hand to guard her eyes as she glanced to her sister. The young heiress' eyes widened as she caught sight of Elise. The blonde's face held an enchanting smile, her free hand raised in a dainty yet welcoming wave. Her eyes were on the flashing lights taking it in with dignity and stride. She was a natural. Jenna didn't know whether to be proud of her sister or disgusted at the ease and naturalness she showed towards being considered famous.

After a few more moments of Elise smiling and laughing lightheartedly for the cameras, the younger girl turned to her sister. A flattered smile adorned her lips. "Let's go inside," She half yelled over the noise.

Jenna agreed eagerly, all but too ready to get away from the attention that was still somewhat fixed on the pair. Turning from the cameras Jenna used her free hand to pick up the skirt of her gown as she held onto Elise for support with her other arm. The two gracefully made their way up the stairs. Two butlers at the main entrance greeted them, the men smiling welcomingly at the two. An elegantly dressed hostess offered them champagne as they made their way to the elevator. Jenna took a glass eagerly, sending a disapproving glanced toward Elise as the younger girl reached out for one. She retracted her hand quickly, a sheepish smile tainting her lips.

The two quickly entered the elevator and made their way up to the ballroom. It was located on the second floor. Jenna once again felt her insides lurch inside of her as her ears took in the deafening ding that signaled their arrival. She lifted the champagne glass shakily to her lips as she gulped down the bubbly contents. She sighed as she removed the empty glass from her lips, the liquid doing nothing to calm her nerves.

Jenna glanced Elise, her younger sister sending a questioning look her way. "What?" Jenna asked.

"You seem...nervous. Are you always so jumpy at these events?" Elise detangled her arm from her sisters.

Jenna bit her lip, her hand gripping the stem of the champagne glass a bit tighter. "I'm just a bit worried about the people here. You know how I am about mingling with these snobs. It never ends well."

The liftman sent a sharp look her way at the word 'snobs.' Jenna glared back not in any mood to take attitude from him or anyone else. She jumped slightly as the elevator doors opened with a shallow creak. The girls quickly stepped out, their eyes taking in the sight. The large illuminated room was scattered with upper class entrepreneurs and businessmen; lawyers and senators; divas and gold diggers. Each was mingling in small groups, some laughing while others enjoyed the hor d'oeurvres. Across the way Charles Van der Pol was merrily chatting with the mayor, a skinny redhead clinging to his arm.

Jenna made her way over to the man, Elise following at her heels. "Jenna," Charles exclaimed with fake excitement. "So glad to see you made it on time."

The heiress smiled tautly. "I said I would."

Charles gave her a short kiss on the cheek. Jenna felt her insides turn inside out at the gesture. The only time the man ever showed her any affection was here at these obscene events and even then it was forced.

"I see that you've already finished one drink for the night. Might want to slow it down with the champagne, darling. We wouldn't want to repeat last year's New Year's Eve ball now would we?" Charles took the empty glass from his daughter's hand before handing it to a wandering hostess. Jenna felt her blood begin to boil. _And so it begins_, she thought sardonically.

The elder man still held his smile as he turned to Elise. "And this must be your guest."

"Yes," Jenna replied with a bit of smugness. She had known from the start that Charles would not have approved of her bringing the daughter of his ex-wife and another man. Her father had never made an effort to meet the younger girl, his acquaintance with his wife's second husband being short and brief. "This is Elise Moretti, Mother's daughter from her second marriage."

Jenna watched as her father's jaw tightened, a small vein peeking out from under the tight flesh. His smile grew more forced as he rose his hand in a seemingly friendly gesture. "Charles Van der Pol, a pleasure to meet you."

Elise smiled nervously, her dainty hand shaking his slowly. "Likewise." She responded back uncomfortably.

Charles quickly turned his attention back to his daughter as he asked, "Jenna, did you happen to run by Hugo's office?"

"Yes, Dad. I told you that I would and I did." Annoyance laced the heiress' voice. He always seemed to think she was incapable of completing even the simplest of tasks.

"No need to become defensive, I was merely making sure. We both know how unreliable you can be at times when asked to do something for me." Jenna remembered the many times her father asked her to pick up his dry-cleaning or fetch him some coffee when she resided with him during her high school years. She had deliberately ignored his requests, refusing to become his little slave daughter who would come running at his every beck and call.

"No matter," He continued. "I wanted to introduce you to some of my acquaintances. If you would follow me over to the—"

"Dad," Jenna interrupted hurriedly. "If you don't mind, Elise has never attended an event of this magnitude before and I would very much like to show her around."

Charles hesitated for a moment, the briefest frown crossing his lips, before acquiescing to her request. "Just find me before you leave tonight. These people are very important and I very much desire that you meet them."

"If you say so," Jenna responded before making her way from her father with Elise at her side.

"He's just as bad as you said he was," Elise whispered causing Jenna to laugh loudly. A few stares were shot their direction causing the heiress to quiet down.

"I tried to warn you," Jenna offered.

Out of the corner of her eye the young woman caught sight of Mrs. Whitman chattering away with her husband and a few other men of stature. The elder woman caught sight of Jenna and eagerly beckoned for her to join them. Jenna smiled and rose her hand in a wave, hoping Mrs. Whitman would leave her be. She was in no mood to listen to the old lady's gossip and condemnation. The woman looked slightly taken aback at Jenna's refusal to come over to her group, but smiled somewhat at the heiress anyways.

"Who was that?" Elise asked. Her innocent eyes were on Mrs. Whitman.

"Oh, just Mrs. Whitman. I figured you didn't want to listen to her chatter away about which businessman is having an affair with a call girl and how woman should dress to attract more men." Jenna watched as her sister laughed in humor and slight relief. She could tell the event was starting to upset the young girl's nerves just as it had already done to her.

"So other than listening in on the latest gossip among the rich and famous, what else do you do at these events?" Elise sounded hopeful.

Jenna shrugged. "Not much else. Sometimes the host will have a speech and other times they serve dinner. It's a bit late for dinner tonight, so I'm assuming it's just a meet and mingle fundraiser sort of thing for the hotel."

Elise seemed somewhat disappointed. Jenna smiled sympathetically down at her younger sister knowing that Elise had anticipated much more exciting things than a simple meet and mingle between the aristocrats of Gotham. Glancing up, Jenna gladly accepted another champagne glass from a welcoming hostess, the cool liquid soothing as she sipped at it. Her eyes began to search the room knowing she would spot _him_ somewhere within the area. After a few sweeps about the ballroom she finally found him.

Bruce Wayne was smiling gently at his guests as they enthusiastically conversed with him. He stood in a regal manner, his hands placed politely behind his back as he leaned into the conversation as if very interested in the subject at hand. Jenna wanted to laugh at how mocking it appeared. Not wanting to catch his eye, she quickly urged her sister to follow her into another area of the room that was guarded by a wall. As long as there was something separating her from the pompous Wayne heir then she would be alright.

"What is it? Why are we in such a hurry to move?" Elise asked, confusion filling her voice.

"Bruce Wayne is just beyond that wall and I did not want him to see me. I'm avoiding him at all costs. " Jenna flushed slightly at the realization of how childish her response sounded.

Elise's brow furrowed in an accusing fashion. "Jenna, you're being ridiculous."

"Am I?" Jenna shot back defensively. "Last time I met with him he through one accusation after another my way, all of which demeaned my character. So I don't think I'm being ridiculous at all."

Elise sighed exasperatedly. "Don't you remember what we talked about? It was probably just a big misunderstanding."

"Oh, Elise, you've always been keen on giving people the benefit of the doubt." Jenna replied. "But me, I see people for who they really are. Trust me when I say that there is little Bruce Wayne could do to cause me to think twice of my opinion of him."

Elise rolled her eyes. "Maybe you should give him another chance. You never know, he might turn out to be a much more respectable man than you give him credit for."

Jenna laughed at her sister's statement. "It would truly be hard for him to redeem himself since I have already decided to loathe him until my dying day."

Elise shook her head and laughed lightly. "You're so melodramatic."

"Am not," Jenna responded back before swatting her sister playfully in the arm.

After a few more moments the women decided to make their way over to the refreshments. They were met with a few of Jenna's acquaintances, offering a polite smile and short conversation to each. The heiress even managed a few moments with her beloved scientist, yet he was pulled away by Charles leaving the young woman to once again be put through meaningless chattering with undesirable company. The topics were sometimes about finances, occasionally about the weather, and almost always about Batman.

"If you ask me, he's a menace," The elder bearded man commented with passionate zeal. Jenna had tried to remember his name, yet found that nothing came to mind.

"And why do you believe that?" Jenna asked, both amused and annoyed at the comments the man was making on a matter she believed he probably knew nothing of.

"Well, for one, where do you think he gets all of his weapons from or that gaudy bat suit he flies around in?" Jenna shrugged urging the man to continue. "He can't be rich, so he must be stealing them. That proves that he's no better than the criminals he locks up. Plus, he won't reveal his face to the public. What does he have to hide? A good, honest hero would have nothing to hide."

"Maybe it's because he doesn't want those he's close to hurt by him revealing his identity. By dawning the mask he keeps them safe. Not only that, but it lowers him to our level while also keeping him above us as well. Underneath the mask we know he is just a man, which makes him relatable and trustworthy. The mask hides his identity, though, keeping him one step above us. Yes, he may be a man, but he is also more than that. He has no identity—no name to confine him. Because of this he is conformable to the needs of Gotham."

The elder man was hardly amused.

"And who might we be talking so adamantly about?" Jenna jumped as she heard the sound of a silky smooth voice resound from behind her. She turned, her insides bursting as she was met with the sight of the man she been desperately trying to avoid.

"Ah, Bruce," The elder man smiled, shaking the Wayne heir's hand and clapping him on the shoulder. "We were having a little disagreement about the Batman. Maybe you could clear it up for us?"

"Perhaps," Bruce responded with a warm smile.

"What is your opinion, Wayne, friend or foe?" The elder man's voice emphasized foe with obvious desire of which he wanted Bruce to choose.

Bruce seemed hesitant before finally answering, "I believe that he has caused more chaos than good, but," He turned to Jenna. "to each his own opinion."

Jenna pursed her lips, unable to fight back yet wanting nothing more than to put the Wayne heir in his place.

"Ah, going with the safe answer tonight, hm Bruce? Smart of you. Very smart of you." The elder man laughed before moving on to talk with another group of people.

Jenna's eyes left Bruce to glance at Elise as if to tell her that she wanted to leave as well. Elise didn't look back at her sister, though, her eyes still on the young man in front of them. Damn him, he'd charmed her younger sister too.

"Jenna," The heiress felt her insides knot as she heard him call her name. "I hope that you're enjoying the party."

Jenna glanced up at Bruce, a tight smile drawn on her lips. "Very much, thank you for asking."

Bruce didn't seem to mind her short answer as he asked, "And who might this be?" He smiled down at Elise who giggled at the attention.

"This is my sister Elise." Jenna shortly responded hoping that he would take the hint to leave.

Bruce grasped Elise's small hand and rose it to his lips. "A pleasure, Elise. I'm—"

"I know who you are," Elise interrupted him eagerly. "Great party, by the way."

His smile grew as he let go of her hand. Jenna resisted the urge to roll her eye at the scene. Here her sister was fawning over the one man she loathed with her entire being. She was going to have to have a good talk with Elise after tonight.

"Is there anything we can do for you, Bruce? If not, we'd very much like to continue meeting with the other guests." _Lies_. Jenna downed the rest of her champagne before handing the empty glass to a nearby hostess.

"Actually, yes," Bruce responded to the young woman's dismay. "I was hoping that you would accompany me on a walk through the hotel gardens. It will only be a short while, I promise." Jenna glared as his face adorned what she assumed as his most charming smile.

"I'm sorry, but—"

"She'd love to go," Elise interrupted quickly for the second time during their conversation. Jenna quickly glared at her younger sister. What was Elise thinking?

"Great," Bruce nodded before holding out his arm for Jenna to take. The young heiress continued glaring in hatred at her sister as she stepped forward and reproachfully took the Wayne's arm. Elise was smiling mischievously, her hand rising to give her older sister an amused wave goodbye. If the younger girl thought that this was Bruce's chance to redeem himself then she was sorely mistaken. A walk through the gardens and a nice little chitchat was not going to change Jenna's opinion of the man.

The two made their way down the stairs in complete silence. It was nerve wracking and frustrating, yet Jenna did nothing to end it. Bruce had invited her on this ridiculous little walk and so he was obliged to provide the conversation. Jenna sure as hell had nothing to say to him.

The duo made their way through the lobby of the hotel towards the back. Jenna caught sight of stares directed towards them and she cringed. She could only imagine what gossip would be started from being seen with the Wayne heir. Oh, how she loathed the man. As they reached the back entrance Bruce opened the glass door for them and quietly they made their way through. The night air was cool and refreshing and Jenna drank it in greedily. There was nothing like escaping a suffocating banquet...except when it was with Bruce Wayne.

"This way," Bruce said as he led her down a set of stairs and around the side of the building. A small stone pathway led to a vine-covered archway. A small wooden gate lay in the archway making the scene appear quaint and welcoming. Bruce pushed the small gate open as they made their way into the garden. Jenna carefully walked over the small stones, her eyes taking in the scenery.

Tall shrubbery grew around her creating thick walls that encircled and grew through the garden. It appeared as if the garden was set up in a sort of maze, the stone pathway leading in two different directions. Bruce took them down the path to the right making Jenna wonder what was located the other way. The garden was lovely and inviting, yet made the young woman feel as if the two were a part of some scene from an over clichéd romance novel. She began to grow a bit apprehensive, the garden not holding the appeal it should have from her.

"Beautiful night," Bruce commented.

Jenna rose an eyebrow. "You didn't bring me all the way out here to talk about the weather, did you?"

Bruce chuckled before shaking his head. "Of course not. I brought you out here because..." He paused.

Jenna glanced up at him as they walked noticing that he looked a bit...uneasy. Was this hard for him to talk to her? Perhaps he thought of her as annoying and abhorrent? The anger she felt towards him grew a bit at the thought.

"Because why?" She queried, wanting this little talk to be over so that she could retreat back to the safety of her sister's company.

"How is your father?" Jenna was slightly taken aback by the change in subject.

"My father?"

"Yes, how is he?"

Jenna hesitated before responding, "He's fine. Business as usual with him. I believe he just purchased his sixth company of the year."

"Ah," Bruce replied. "I'll have to remember to congratulate him." He hesitated again before asking, "And how is your sister liking the event?"

"She's liking it just fine." Jenna's brows furrowed in confusion. What was going on? "You never answered my question, Bruce. Why did you bring me out here?"

They stopped walking then, Jenna's arm leaving Bruce's as she turned to face him. She rose a brow in expectance.

"I wanted to ask you..." He paused again.

Jenna huffed in annoyance. "Yes, what did you want to ask me?"

"I wanted to ask you on a date."

Jenna felt her eyes widen, her breath hitching in her throat. Was she imagining this? Was this some sort of sick joke? Bruce's face held nothing but seriousness, his eyes keen on hers. After a few moments she managed to splutter out, "What?"

"A date. I wanted to ask you on a date."

"I heard you the first time," Jenna said. "Why?"

"What do you mean why?" Bruce asked, his brow furrowing. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Not really. I thought we had agreed to hate each other at my father's banquet." Jenna offered, her mind still reeling from the situation.

"Hate each other?" Bruce laughed causing Jenna to glare at him. "We've hardly met!"

"Then what grounds do you have for asking me on a date?" The young heiress shot back.

"I'd like to get to know you better." Bruce offered with a smirk.

Jenna's glare grew. "Why the sudden interest in me? When we first were introduced you repeatedly accused me of being a money hungry tramp."

"I don't believe I ever used to the word tramp," Bruce suggested.

"It was implied." Jenna shot back.

"I was merely curious of your motives. Now that I know you have no interest in my money, I'd like to get to know you better." Again with the smirk. Jenna was getting more than sick of that Wayne's damn smirk.

"Don't you think it'd be best if we just parted ways as indifferent acquaintances?" Jenna asked hopefully.

"Perhaps, but you've intrigued me, Jenna. You've now denied me more times than any woman in my life; you've held disdain for me since you've learned my name; and you apparently hold no interest in wealth or standing whatsoever. I must say I find your character rather refreshing from the usual people I have to deal with."

"Charming," Jenna replied sarcastically. "But I'll have to decline your offer. I'm already seeing someone."

Bruce's smirk fell a tad. "Oh? Maybe I know him. What's his name?"

"Ethan Grey," Jenna's mind flashed with an image of the man. Soft curls, tantalizing brown eyes, a charming smile...she wondered what he could be doing at that moment. Thinking of her perhaps?

"Ah, Ethan. He used to work for me at Wayne Enterprises. Great accountant." Bruce smiled as he complimented the young man. Jenna seethed with anger.

"How dare you act as if you knew him at all after the way that you treated him," She snapped.

"What are you talking about?" Bruce's brow fell as he frowned in confusion.

"Ethan told me the whole story. Isn't it true you had him fired because he asked too many questions? He was just concerned as to where your money was disappearing to and you had him fired. So don't act like you were close." Jenna was beyond keeping her composure.

"It's true that I had him fired."

"I knew it!" Jenna accused, her arms crossing over her chest.

"But you shouldn't act as if you knew the situation either, Jenna. How do you know that Ethan wasn't the bad guy?" Bruce's voice was a bit more raised and the heiress knew they were embarking on a full-on argument.

"Oh, sure, blame the man who is easily replaceable. Ethan is far from the bad guy, Mr. Wayne. He volunteers his time to work at a nonprofit organization to help feed the hungry and needy of Gotham, something I'm sure you know very little about." Jenna's voice oozed with malice.

"You're so quick to defend him, yet do you even know him? How long have you two been dating?" Bruce inquired.

"Long enough for me to know that he's ten times the man that you could ever be." Jenna's voice rose as her hands formed fists at her sides. "He gives back to those who need it and is trying to do something good for the community while you ride around in your Rolls-Royce cars and attend parties in your Armani suits with no care for those underneath you. I have the utmost respect for Ethan, but I can't say the same about you."

Bruce seemed as if he was ready to fight back, yet no words left his lips. Finally the irritation left his features and he sighed in defeat. Jenna smirked some in her victory, glad to know that she had finally put the Wayne in his place. Neither moved for a few moments, each taking in the scene that had just unfolded in front of them. Bruce was the first to break the silence. Slowly he stepped forwards. Jenna watched as he neared her, unable to move and questioning his actions as he stood before her.

The young woman glanced up at his eyes—deep brown with small flecks of golden hues bursting through the darkness. They peered down at her with concentration as if drinking in her appearance. Her insides fluttered and her throat tightened. She gasped as she felt warmth against her throat. Bruce's hand softly cupped the base of her neck, his fingers surprisingly rough and calloused. Small tingles shot from the contact point just as they had when Bruce had kissed her hand the first time they had met. Jenna swallowed harshly, still unable to move from where she stood. What was he doing? Why wasn't she reacting? She should be slapping him by now.

His hand moved softly from her neck to her shoulder causing her to shudder lightly. Her eyelids drooped slightly as she saw his face near hers, his breath warm against her cool lips. For a moment Jenna was convinced he was going to kiss her. And for a moment she was not sure she would protest if he did. His breath was teasing her, inviting her to move forwards so that their lips might touch. Then as suddenly as he was there, he was gone. Jenna softly shook her head as she glanced up at Bruce who was now standing a few feet from her. His arm was outstretched towards him.

"I'll accompany you back into the party."

She didn't refuse. Shakily she took his arm and the two made their way back into the hotel without another word. Elise eagerly appeared at her side once the two had made it back into the ballroom. Bruce was gone before Jenna had blinked an eye making things even more confusing. Had she misread the signals? Wasn't he about to kiss her in the garden? He was obviously interested in her...but they had been so nasty towards each other. Well, _she_ had been nasty towards _him_. No matter how much she tried, she could not sort out the events that had taken place. It was as if the world had been turned upside down.

"So what happened between you two? Do you still hate him?" Elise had asked on the way home.

Jenna assured her that she still harbored the same dislike of the man. Yet she found that now she was curious as to what if would have been like if he had kissed her...Would she have hated it? What would have happened if she hadn't? Would it happen again? The rest of the night was filled with uneasiness as she tried to hopelessly push the billionaire from her mind.

* * *

Cheesy? Yes. And I was so hoping it wouldn't be. Honestly, this scene was a lot different in my head and my notes. But what's done is done. I'm not willing to strip it down and rewrite the whole thing. So it'll do. Let me know what you guys think! Poor confused Jenna. Hope she figures things out sooner or later.

New chapter should be posted soon so keep your eyes open. Wouldn't want you guys to miss out on anything. :)


	8. The Trial

Author's Note: Hey, look at that. I managed to get chapter eight up fairly quickly, didn't I? Go me! Anyways, I hope you like this chapter better than the last. I know I do. A word in advance, I am not a lawyer, judge, etc. I have very little familiarity with how the judicial system works. So if there's anything wrong with the statements or whatnot that I wrote in the case section of this chapter than I apologize in advance. I looked up a few laws here and there so I think it's pretty accurate. If you notice anything wrong, could you practice a little forgiveness on a poor author? Thanks. :) Well, enjoy.

Please review and leave me some advice/constructive criticism! Your responses give me a little boost and I tend to work better under a reward-based system, if you catch my drift. ;)

Disclaimer: I would think you should know the drill by now. Christopher Nolan, you are a lucky lucky man.

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**The Trial**

_Chapter Eight_

Jenna sat facing the television, the screen flashing fluorescent lights upon her dark face. Her legs were pulled against her and she hugged them loosely. A discarded popcorn bag and ice cream bowl lay next to her, her blanket hanging half way off of her body. Growling lightly, the young woman tried hard to focus on the show that was playing.

A dirtied man raced across the screen. He seemed angry as he rushed out of the shot. What was his name again? Suddenly a woman appeared on the screen. She looked upset as well. The man grabbed her despite her attempts at avoiding his hold. He looked down at her sternly...intensely...lovingly. She broke, tears rolling from her eyes. With one final moment of silence the two lunged for each other in a passionate kiss.

The heiress watched, yet found that her mind was far from the show. Instead she was thinking of certain man—a certain mouth. How would their kiss have been? Would it have been passionate like the one on the television? In the middle of a fight they both give into the passions and take one another in each other's arms, her hands tangled in his hair. No...his hair was always too well done for her to run her fingers through. Though, that only made it more tempting. And how would his lips taste? She imagined he kept them up well considering he always kept everything he had looking and feeling as sharp as ever.

Soft and supple? No, too feminine. Calloused and rough? Perhaps, but he seemed too neat and tidy for that, too put together. No, the feeling of his lips would be rough yet soft; searing hot yet cool to the touch; familiar yet mysterious; inviting and yet reserved.

Jenna sighed in exasperation, her hands leaving her legs to cover her face. It was the night before the hearing and here she was up way past midnight imagining what it would be like to kiss Bruce Wayne. _The _Bruce Wayne. God, what was she thinking? Just a few days ago she was obsessed with kissing Ethan, now it was the Prince of Gotham? She had sworn to hate him for the rest of her life the day she had met him and yet here she was wondering what his mouth would feel like. She was pathetic. How could she go from loathing him to finding him attractive in a matter of one night?

The heiress couldn't deny that he was attractive. The way he slicked back his hair, his bronze skin and thin lips, the way he held an air of dignity that demanded respect were all qualities that Jenna found appealing. Even so, she couldn't put the fact that she still didn't like the guy behind her. Yes, he was perfectly agreeable at the hotel gathering and had even shown interest in her family, but that did not dismiss the way he had treated her the first time they had met. Plus, he was a playboy after all. He probably only wanted one passionate night with her and then he'd be on his jolly way. Still, he had seemed sincere. And he had mentioned wanting to change her idea of him the first night on the balcony. Yet even if he did change her mind, he was still no Ethan.

Ethan...she hadn't talked to the young man since she had invited him to the hotel opening. She had hoped he would call, but her phone had remained strangely quiet throughout the day. Jenna had been distracted with getting her work done earlier, yet now she wondered why he hadn't called her.

Perhaps he was busy with appraisals and volunteering. But a phone call only took a minute. Jenna shook her head. She had no right to be upset. She was, after all, thinking about what it would feel like to make out with a billionaire playboy. Lifting herself off the couch, Jenna grabbed her emptied dishes and discarded them in the sink. Her eyes wandered to her cell phone. She quickly looked away pushing thoughts of calling Ethan out of her mind. She had called him first after their date so now it was his turn to call her.

Jenna grabbed her phone, turned off the television, and headed to her room. Slipping into bed, she pulled out a book from her nightstand—_Pride and Prejudice_. Jenna opened to the page she had last left off. Her eyes scanned the script with vague interest. Elizabeth was finally putting aside her prejudices against Mr. Darcy after finding out that he had helped her family and encouraged the engagement between her sister and Mr. Bingley. They were now crossing ways, both fallen in love with one another. Jenna's eyes caught as she read of their tender kiss.

Is that how it might happen between her and Bruce—two people with prejudices against one another ultimately falling in love? Would their paths cross in the future only to bring them together in a tender kiss? Jenna threw the book down, her head snapping to the cell phone beside her bed. First kissing Bruce, now falling in love with him? She had to call Ethan before her thoughts ran any wilder.

Grabbing her phone, she quickly dialed Ethan's number. She waited patiently as it rang. After a few more moments his voicemail picked up. Should she leave a message? She didn't have time to think before the beep sounded.

"Uh, hi Ethan. It's Jenna Van der Pol. Um, I was just calling, because I hadn't heard from you. I know it hasn't been that long. Actually, it's only been a day." Jenna closed her eyes realizing how creepy she was starting to sound. Why had she called Ethan again? Oh right, because she had been imagining a passionate make out scene with another man. "I guess I had just thought that you would call me today. I'm sounding really pathetic, aren't I? I'm going to go before I embarrass myself any further." She quickly snapped her phone shut.

God, what was she thinking? Could her night get any worse? Jenna dared a glanced at the clock—three in the morning. Would she be able to get enough sleep for the hearing tomorrow? Probably not. The court case was at nine in the morning, but Gordon wanted her at his office at eight, which meant that she had to leave her apartment around seven, which put her alarm for waking up at around five thirty. She would definitely not being getting enough sleep. Sighing, Jenna collapsed into her sheets trying desperately to forget about Bruce and Ethan. They would have to wait until after the hearing.

Jenna groaned as her alarm clock beeped loudly in her ear. Reaching over she quickly snoozed it before falling back to sleep. Ten minutes later she was jerked awake again as the alarm sounded once more. Sighing, she slowly sat up before shutting it off. Stretching out her stiff muscles, she looked around the room groggily. Her eyes glanced briefly at her phone. Nothing new, of course. Had she expected Ethan to call her at four in the morning? She shook her head before leaving her bed to make her way towards the shower. She rinsed off quickly, disappointed that her water didn't warm up until she was already done. Grabbing a towel she quickly wrapped it around herself before starting on her hair and make up. Her mind wandered to the hearing. She thought of the defendant and a small shiver ran down her spine. The heiress bit her lip.

Could she go through with this—testifying against such a powerful mobster? What if she was arrested as an accomplice of his drug enterprise and the murdering of her stepfather? Was she being ridiculous for thinking she could be digging her own grave? Jenna swallowed thickly. She new a fairly good amount about the law, yet she didn't know how far jurisdiction went when it came to a young child living in a house full of drugs and witnessing deals made between her stepfather and a mob leader.

Jenna thought of what Hugo had said. She would be doing Gotham a huge favor by testifying, yet her fear was starting to get the best of her. The heiress thought of all the people counting on her. She knew she couldn't let them down. She'd lose her job, her allies, and her reputation if she didn't show up at court. Yet no one knew she was putting her own freedom at stake. The young woman finished putting her hair and make up together before quickly dashing to her closet to find an outfit.

Once ready she poured herself a cup of coffee, grabbed her keys, and then made her way to her car. Jenna watched the sun rise from the city skyline as she drove across the bridge into the Narrows. It was a beautiful morning.

Pulling up to the police station, she quickly grabbed her folder and evidence before making her way into the building. Jenna smiled tightly at the secretary before continuing to the commissioner's office. "Good morning, Commissioner." She hoped he hadn't noticed the tremor in her voice.

Gordon glanced up, dark circles lining the bottom rims of his eyes. Had he been up all night too? No doubt for different reasons, Jenna thought. She shook her head as he smiled warmly at her. "Morning, Jenna. You're on time I see."

"I always am," She answered, taking a seat across from his desk.

"Are you ready for today?"

Was she? Jenna hardly knew. "Of course," She lied. Should she tell him about Russo? Could he do anything for her even if she did?

"Good," He answered with a nod. "Because you'll need to be. Russo has men paid off in the hearing today and I can only assume he has a plan of escaping if he's convicted."

"So what should we do?"

"Make sure he doesn't get away." Gordon answered with a small smile. "What do you have for evidence?"

Jenna's eyes dropped to the folders in her lap. She quickly flipped them open and revealed the contents one by one. "I have here files of eyewitness reports of drug deals being made between Russo and his clients. The eyewitnesses have given recorded testimonies, but refused to testify in open court."

Gordon took the printed reports while Jenna reached into her bag to pull out of the tape recorders. He nodded as if to say he was satisfied and she quickly put them back. "Next, I have a copy of the interview between one of my co-workers and an inmate that shared a cell with one of Russo's men. He reported that the mob member offered to sell him quality drugs for a cheap price if he agreed to join their mob. The member told the inmate stories about Russo's business, which are included in the report."

Gordon again looked over the papers. Jenna glanced down at her last piece of evidence. Staring up at her were pictures that had been given to her by Batman. She picked them up slowly.

"What are those?" She glanced at the commissioner as she heard his voice.

"These are pictures of deals being made by Russo and his different clients. They show him meeting with fellow mob leaders and members." She handed them to Gordon.

"Where did you get these?" He flipped through them, eyeing each one through his spectacles.

Jenna hesitated. "A friend," was the only adequate answer she could muster.

Gordon half smiled. "He informed me he had given you some evidence to use." Jenna rose an eyebrow. "Great work, Ms. Van der Pol." He handed the pictures back to her.

"Now when you're called up to the stand I want you to report all the history your station has collected on Russo. Every drug deal, every crime committed, every meal eaten, everything you have on him I want you to report. Don't leave a detail out. Can you do that for me?"

Jenna nodded. "Of course." She paused. Now was the time to say something. Should she stay quiet or tell him of her past?

"We better get going if we want to make it to the courthouse on time." Gordon stood, his hand reaching for his coat.

Jenna stayed quiet as she stood as well. She hastily followed the man out of the station, thanking him as he opened the passenger side door to his car. Shuffling the folders on her lap, she cleared her throat as they pulled away from the police station. She felt the commissioner glance at her.

"Everything alright? You're awfully quiet."

She tried to laugh, yet it only came out as a dry choke. Jenna quickly quieted. "I'm fine. It's just..." She waited; so did he. "I sort of have a history with Sergio Russo."

Gordon's gaze darted to her once more as he stopped for a red light. "What do you mean?" He questioned.

Jenna bit her lip. Was he upset she hadn't told him before? "My stepfather was involved with him when I was a child. I'm not sure how far, but Russo used to stash drugs at our house and every once in a while he'd come over to drop them off or pick them up."

Gordon was quiet. Jenna didn't speak as he remained in thought. Finally he sighed before saying, "There's not much we can do now. We need you on that stand. If the subject is brought up, we'll find a way to defend you."

Jenna nodded, though she wasn't convinced she was out of the woods just yet. Her stomach fluttered as her nerves began to consume her. She wanted to run, yet she couldn't move a muscle. How could she run anyways? She was in a moving cop car heading towards the city courthouse. She had no escape; it was now or never. As they pulled into the parking lot behind the court, Gordon turned towards Jenna with a gentle smile.

His hand reached out to grasp her shoulder lightly. "Hey," He said in a soft voice. His eyes scanned her face and Jenna found that she grew a bit less petrified as his hand squeezed her shoulder. "It's going to be alright. You're doing the right thing, and no one can punish you for that."

Jenna nodded. "Thank you," She murmured. His hand left her shoulder, the skin there growing cold as they exited the car.

The heiress rose her hand to shade her eyes as she glanced up at the courthouse. The alabaster building shown brightly in the morning sun, people already scattered around the steps on their way to the hearing. Jenna shut her door and fell into step with the commissioner as they headed towards the structure. As they neared the place, people were scrambling all around. Some appeared to be lawyers who were prepping their clients, others disheveled witnesses about to testify, and some confident criminals ready to be released. Gordon opened the court doors for her, the two making their way inside in silence.

Their hearing was the fifth door down the left hall. Jenna took a deep breath as the commissioner led them into the room. Already people were taking their seats waiting for the case to start. Multiple policemen scattered the outskirts of the area, watching as people found their seats. Gordon directed Jenna to the front row. After taking a seat, Jenna glanced around at the people that were filing in. Some looked to be ordinary citizens, most likely connected to Russo through some sort of violent act against someone they knew. Perhaps the little boy in the back row lost his father to Russo just as Jenna had lost her stepfather? Did the woman with tissues lose her husband to the mob leader's ruthless violence?

Jenna's eyes made their way to the other visitors in the room. She assumed the group of men in Italian suits were Russo's guys come to support their leader. Their hair was slicked back, their faces clean-shaven. One even had a cigar peeking from within his coat pocket. Were they planning on the release of their boss? Jenna turned back around to face the front of the room. The judge's seat was empty along with the seats were Russo and his lawyer should have been sitting.

Moments passed by, each ticking away at Jenna's psyche. Her insides were on the verge of unraveling. How much longer? Why couldn't they just start? She desired nothing more than to do her part and be done with it. Her eyes glanced to the back as she heard the doors open. She caught sight of Russo with his lawyer. He wore a small smirk on his face, the scar along his features more prominent than ever. He was dressed in a pressed suite and Italian loafers. As they neared the front his eyes locked with hers. Jenna felt her throat tighten as she tried to swallow. Russo's smirk grew as he stared at her for a few moments before turning to sit down. He knew he was unnerving her.

Jenna turned her vision away from the mob leader, her breathing shallow as she waited for the hearing to start. Finally the judge made his way in and the trial began. Each side stated their case before the jury, after which witnesses started being called up. The defendant had the floor first followed by the prosecutor. He called up Russo's men to question, each having a well-rehearsed story of where their leader was during such-and-such event.

"It's reported by eyewitnesses that Sergio Russo and a few other men were seen entering Mr. Ramos' house at eleven forty-five p.m on May 15th. Neighbors said they heard shouting and loud noises coming from the house a little while after Mr. Russo had entered the premises. At one fifteen a.m. neighbors say they saw Mr. Russo leaving the house with his men. The next day Mr. Ramos' body was found in the living room of his house with five stab wounds to his chest and neck. Do you agree with this account?"

The mob member gave a cheeky smirk. "Of course not. Mr. Russo ain't a murderer. He ain't hurt nobody. I've known him since we was in high school. He's a good guy. Got a good wife with some nice kids and a nice house. What would he want with this ah-Mr. Ramos?"

"You tell me." The prosecutor countered. "If he wasn't at the premises at the reported time, then could you possibly tell me where he was?"

"Yeah," The mobster answered with a grin. "He was out to a club with me and Johnny Voltero. We like to go hit the bars on the weekends and catch up. That's wheres we were that night."

"Can you tell me what the name of the club was?"

"Somethin' French. Les Di? Les something." The man paused for a moment. "Oh yeah, Les Deux. That was the place."

"Why is it then that neighbors identified the man going into and leaving Mr. Ramos' house as Sergio Russo?" The lawyer questioned as he walked up to the stand.

The man shrugged. "It was dark. How do they even see the guy's face? It coulda been anyone. I betcha it was that guy Gambol's boys. They're always hittin' up places. You should be questioning them."

"Do you or Mr. Russo know Mr. Gambol well, then?" The lawyer questioned.

"Heard of him," The mob member answered. "But we've never met the guy. Like I said, Mr. Russo's an honest guy, same as I am."

Jenna waited as the prosecutor finished with the defendant's witnesses. Next the prosecutor called up his witnesses to be questioned. A few were pulled to the stands before Jenna, each giving their accounts of things they'd seen or heard of Russo. A few were neighbors of some of Russo's victims while others were inmates who had been asked to join the Family. Finally it was Jenna's turn.

"I'd like to call Jenna Van der Pol to the stand, please."

Jenna stood shakily before making her way to the front. She rounded the pulpit and took a seat before handing her folders and evidence to the judge to review while she was questioned.

The prosecutor smiled at her gently before asking, "Jenna, what organization is it you work for?"

Jenna cleared her throat and sat up a bit straighter. "I work for the Gotham City Drug Control and Investigation Offices."

"And what exactly do you do at your job?" The lawyer leaned up against the pulpit.

"Our office collects the files and paperwork the police station sends in for us to document. These documents usually are reports of eyewitness accounts of drug dealings, murderers, etc. Our office both documents and investigates for the police. My job is to do research on reported drug dealers and mob members to collect and file their history from childhood to mob life." Jenna folded her hands in her lap feeling a bit more confident as she spoke. She purposefully avoided glancing at the defendant's table.

"So do you have eyewitness reports with you today?"

"Yes, I do," Jenna answered. "The judge can refer to them in the folder titled 'Firsthand Accounts."

The prosecutor continued questioning her on the evidence she received along with the firsthand reports and tapes she had with her. Luckily she had personally interviewed each witness before the trial and easily could answer any and all of the lawyer's questions.

"Thank you, that will be all." With that the prosecutor took his seat and the defendant's lawyer stood.

Jenna glanced at the man, her eyes catching a glimpse of Russo's devious grin. The heiress felt her skin grow hot as her hands began to ring together in her lap. Taking a few deep breaths she attempted to remain calm. This was it. She could do this. Jenna glanced at Gordon who sat in the front row still. He put on a small smile, yet even he did not seem to bring any comfort now. The young woman glanced back at the lawyer.

"Jenna Van der Pol." The man stated. "I'm assuming the daughter of Charles Van der Pol of 'Van der Pol Industries?'"

Jenna nodded. "Yes, that's right." She reached a clammy hand up to tuck a few dark strands of hair behind her ear.

"And daughter of Rosaline Davies?"

"Yes." Jenna wondered where he was going with this. What did all of this have to do with the case?

"And is it true that your mother remarried after your parent's divorce to a man named Lyle Moretti?" The lawyer's lips held a hint of a smirk.

"Yes, that's true."

"You're point, Mr. Lewis?" The judge asked, his fingers tapping against his pulpit.

Mr. Lewis smiled before continuing. "Is it also true that your stepfather was acquainted with Mr. Russo?"

Jenna bit her lip. How could she answer that? Could she lie? No, she had already taken the oath. If she lied she'd go to prison. If she didn't lie...well, she would probably go to prison either way. She tried to swallow dryly.

"Ms. Van der Pol?" The judge asked drawing her attention back to the question.

"Y-yes, my stepfather and Mr. Russo knew each other. The defendant came over to our house once or twice, but they were nothing more than acquaintances." Jenna felt her voice shake as she spoke.

"Are you saying you have met the defendant before this hearing?" Jenna's eyes darted to the judge who was frowning down at her.

She nodded meekly. Her hand reached up to grasp lightly at her stomach as she suddenly felt sick. It was over; she was going to jail.

"I'm afraid that you cannot be counted as a witness then. Please scratch all statements made during the questioning. Your evidence will be considered. You are dismissed from the stand." The judge turned to Mr. Lewis. "Please, call up your next witness so we can keep moving."

Jenna felt herself let out a deep breath as she was directed back to her seat by the bailiff. What had just happened? She glanced at Gordon, yet he only smiled at her before turning back towards the case. Jenna sat in her seat with her hands shakily folded together in front of her. The judge had just let her go. She wasn't arrested. She glanced at Russo who was watching as his lawyer question another witness. Her mind raced as she tried to think of why he had been so cocky about having connections with her family. Hadn't his plan been to get her arrested? Jenna's brow furrowed. No, he didn't want that. He had used his connections to her so that she'd be dismissed as a witness, because he knew she had valuable information on him.

The heiress felt her entire being suddenly become engulfed in relief. She slumped slightly in her chair as the hearing continued. Every fear and anxiety she had held before the hearing was now gone. Jenna vaguely listened to the rest of the case, yet she found that no matter how she tried she could not concentrate. Her attention was on her nerves, which were still unwinding from the stress she had been under over the last few weeks. Finally the case ended in a stalemate. The judge scheduled another hearing for a later date and the court was dismissed.

The heiress and Gordon made their way back to his cop car. Once inside Gordon gave Jenna a quick pat on the back before they made their way back to the station. "You did a great job," He commented.

Jenna scoffed. "If being dismissed from the case was a great job, then yes I guess I did."

Gordon chuckled. "It wasn't ideal that the judge dismissed you as a witness, but he kept the evidence so we have that for now. Plus, we might be able to convince one of your eyewitnesses to testify at the next hearing."

The young woman nodded. "I can contact them and arrange a meeting." She paused. "By the way, why was I dismissed from the case because of my family's acquaintance with Russo?"

Gordon didn't glance at her as he answered, "You can be used as a witness with prior knowledge or relations with the defendant if you're an eyewitness, victim, or close relation to a victim. Since you were an evidence-based witness being questioned about the knowledge you have from your office, by law you're required to have an unbiased opinion, giving only facts in your answers. Since you knew the defendant personally you were dismissed, because your answers could have been biased for or against him."

"I see," Jenna murmured with satisfaction and relief once again.

The rest of the drive was silent and Jenna figured they'd go over logistics back at the station. She hoped that she wouldn't have to play much more of a role in the case. The thought of three piles of paperwork on her desk at her office was lingering in the back of her mind. Finally they made it back to the police station. Jenna and the commissioner exited the car and made their way inside.

"We'll have to get a hold of the witnesses by next week," He stated as he rounded his desk to take a seat. His eyes scanned over various notes left on his desk by his secretary.

"I can arrange that," Jenna responded.

"Good," He responded absentmindedly. Gordon glanced up at her. "We'll also need anything else you can gather as evidence. If you find anything, let us know."

Jenna nodded.

Gordon smiled. "You helped us out a lot, Jenna."

"Just glad I could do something," Jenna offered with a smile. She paused for a moment as the commissioner turned to grab something from his fax machine.

"Is there anything else I need to do today?" Jenna asked. Gordon didn't respond as his eyes read over the fax that had been sent to him.

"Sir?"

He glanced up. "No, that will be all. Your work here is done for now." He laid the fax on his desk as he held out his hand for Jenna to shake.

As she reached out to shake his hand her gaze was drawn to the fax. She felt her breath hitch and her eyes widen as she was met with a black and white picture of Ethan. She quickly let go of the commissioner's hand and pointed to the picture.

"Who's that?"

Gordon glanced at the picture of Ethan. "Oh, just some low class criminal. There's a warrant out for his arrest. Apparently he was caught trying to rob a bank yesterday. He's been in and out of Arkham Asylum a few times on the insanity plea. He recently goes by the name of Ethan Grey."

Jenna felt as if she might faint. She tried to speak, yet nothing came out. Was she just imagining all of this? It had to be a dream. Ethan was a criminal? No, no, not just a criminal—he was an _insane criminal_. The heiress put a hand to her head as she tried to keep herself from falling.

"Do you know him?" Gordon asked causing Jenna's gaze to flash to him.

She briskly shook her head. "N-no," She stammered as she finally found her voice. "I've never seen him in my life."

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There's a reason why Jenna denied her relationship with Ethan which will be revealed in future chapters (probably the following one, actually). Little cliffhanger for you? Hope you liked it!

Don't forget to please review! See you next chapter.


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